The Stele Arts Academy
by TheEternalDaylightingRanger
Summary: After a nasty break-up with her boyfriend, a run-in with the Milkshake Man, and several ridiculous hours spent in detention with perhaps the worst human being she's ever met: Jace Herondale-not to mention the divorce she's pretty sure her parents will get soon-Clary's senior year is sure to be filled with lots of craziness and stress. Love was most definitely not in her agenda.
1. The Compatibility of Sebastian

**So here's my new story guys! Posted it a little earlier than I said I was going to do, but I got super excited. So here is my version of the generic High School fanfic, but I promise that it will have a different kind of ending! I have almost this whole thing done on paper, so if you guys _reviewed_, it would definitely spur on my motivation to type it out. So here it is!**

**Tell me what you all think about this first chapter**

**-La**

**Chapter 1**

Clary Morgenstern stared at her boyfriend, not sure she felt even particularly sad or depressed at their evident parting.

Grieving? No.

Unhappy? No.

Relieved? Maybe...

Though, Sebastian was obviously devastated, which only created a twinge of guiltiness in her heart. He had been a good boyfriend; caring not too nosy, but informed enough about what was going on in her life, easy to talk to, not that bad at kissing…

"Sebastian…" she said, not sure how to go about it without feeling awkward, "I'm sorry it's so hard and upsetting for you. I just…I have too many things I have to deal with right now-"

"Is that what I am now? Another thing in your life you have to deal with?" when she didn't say anything, he continued, still very hurt. "Sorry for being such an inconvenience." he exclaimed, eyes glistening. She sighed; she hated it when he cried.

"No, no…I thought you of all people would understand." she paused, beginning over again. "I have, like, no time we for you in my schedule. You don't fit anywhere in my timeline- right now _and_ in the future. I mean, have you even thought of what we were going to do after high school and going to different colleges and live far away from each other?"

Sebastian didn't answer, but ground his teeth and stared at the ground between them, now the place where they were too separated to go back. "You see?" she justified. "Nothing. That's what. We have no future together...whatsoever. I'm just...saving us from some stupid, long-term relationship across the phone that would inevitably end with both of us cheating on each other and never talking again. At least this way we can still be friends…" she added that last part hopefully. Sebastian was a good person, they had been dating since the beginning of sophomore year and she'd had barely any problems with him. Perhaps it was the lack of connection and feelings she had for him. Clary had always read about that spark in books and not once had she ever experienced it with Sebastian.

But Sebastian only snorted, trying to sound unaffected like she was, which he obviously wasn't. He of course had feelings for her, then. "Friends?" he spat the word like it was poison. "You think we could still be friends?"

"I guess not, if you want act like this." she said, offended.

Sebastian began to pace. "I've been a perfect boyfriend to you! Name one thing I've done wrong! One thing." at this he grabbed her arm, shaking her like he could shake out her problems with him. He pushed her back against her locker. It didn't hurt her as much as just freaked out

" I…" he shook her harder, her head banged into the locker. "STOP! You're hurting me! Let go!" she shoved his heaving chest away from her. He stared at her, blinking away shock at himself.

"Sorry, I…Clary wait!" she started to walk away from him, shaking her head, staring at the floor.

"We're done, Sebastian! Get over it! I think I already have, in fact." She yelled over her shoulder, shocked and angry at him. How had she really been dating him for two years and never seen that side of him?

She hurried to her next class, thinking how big of a disaster that was. Never had she ever thought he might shake or shove her. It had been sort of her fault, though. She had spring this on him without any warning to him or her. She had meant to let him down later and easier, but after going to her second hour class, she realized how behind she was. So she had gone to her locker, and there was Sebastian, waiting to walk her to her next hour class. And then this had happened.

Clary swore as the bell rung, quickening her pace to "Biology of Life Science." they were supposed to be bisecting a goat's lung, which Clary didn't understand how it helped her remember part's of a _human's_ lung.

The door was closed and locked when she arrived, so she knocked twice. Percy Pontmercy opened it, immediately sitting down. She looked at the scene around her and was nearly convinced that the class was following a slightly more moderate, modernized version of The Lord of the Flies. Girls were chattering and gossiping, shrieking with laughter, sounding like dying pigs sometimes because of their obnoxious squealing. Most of the boys were shoving or arm wrestling each other, others through spit wads across the room. Two were tossing a small football between each other. A couple in the back was making out, and someone was playing rap music on their phone. The whole room was filled with shouting and laughter.

She decided to ignore everyone, walking to her seat quietly, pulling out her chair and sat in it lightly. She looked at the teacher's desk; empty.

The two girls on either side of her were talking avidly, trying to see above her head. She sighed and pulled out a piece of construction paper, starting to sketch an idea that she'd had, but hadn't had the time to put it out on paper. She hunched over the sheet of paper, planning out her next artwork.

She blocked everything out, from the rowdiness of her classmates, to the ugly music, to the couple sucking on each other's faces. She was quite used to doing this, at lunch, on the bus, the shouting parents at home…

Clary traced out a tall building, everything glass to that one should be able to see everything inside, but it was dark inside despite it being daytime. Other than a little light bulb glowing dimly in the mysteries of the interior, that was all you could see. Her art teacher had instructed to begin something that was, and this was his words, "deep." She could've drawn the bottom of an ocean with that kind of specificity. She had just pulled out some charcoal when Mr. Davies finally came in. He stared around the room, astounded at their behavior. "Students!" no one seemed to hear him. Clary put down in her pencil and focused on him. His gray eyes were alit angrily, his expression livid. "STUDENTS!" he thundered. Everyone froze, all except for the two in the back, making noises like they were about to slurp off each other's faces. He was a usually a very calm, tolerating teacher, so everyone's mouth was agape, staring at him stupidly. She cringed as Mr. Davies began going off on them.

"I'm ten minutes late to class to print copies of your lab, and I come in…and see that all hell is breaking loose- Mr. Herondale, please save your activity for a different and more convenient time, not in my class. It is not a place to…catch up with your girlfriend." Jace pulled away from the girl, unaffected, contrasting greatly to his blushing partner. She tried to wipe her mouth on her sleeve inconspicuously but since the whole class was watching her, many burst out laughing and chuckling.

"Sorry, sir." Jace smirked, lifting his arm from her shoulders. He obviously loved attention, and received it successfully, his smirk growing wider and wider as the class turned to look at them both. Clary just rolled her eyes, looking back at her angry teacher.

"Thank you," Mr. Davies said coldly, "Now today, I know you were led to believe that you were bisecting a goats lung-" there were a few squeals of disgust, and some evil grins from the boys, "But due to today's…inconvenient experiences, you will all be writing a five page essay on- will someone turn of that infernal music?" he snapped. Percy fumbled with his phone and turned it off. "Anyways," he glared at the class, "You will all be writing a five page essay on classroom behavior, and how you failed to do that."

There was a chorus of groans throughout the classroom. Mr. Davies raised his eyebrows, "Fine then, we'll make it ten pages!" Clary almost let out a cry of surprise. She clamped her mouth shut, following the example of the rest of her classmates. Their teacher looked around the classroom, challenging someone to complain or protest. "The paper is due next week exactly, on Thursday. Failure to turn it in is an automatic zero, no exceptions."

One of the stupid boys raised his hand. For her, the unintelligent people who went to her school seemed to be nameless but also numerous, so they were given the same vague, easy to remember name she had personally assigned them: stupid person. "What if we are sick that day?"

'I'd now that you just really skipped and you'd get a zero."

The stupid boy slumped in his chair, frowning.

Clary bit her tongue, longing to cry out the injustice. She hadn't done anything to be disruptive! He was a fair teacher, he might excuse her out of the assignment…

Everyone pulled out their notebooks. Clary stared at hers blankly at the empty page. She'd always been good at writing, but she was so bitter and angry at her classmates that she almost fuming in her seat. The only sound was the scratching of pens and pencils across paper, occasionally flipping. she tried to write her topic sentence, but she couldn't focus. she closed her notebook and stood up, the chair scraping back loudly. She cringed as everyone stared at her.

Clary walked to the front of the room to his desk resolutely. Mr. Davies seemed to be ignoring her. She cleared her throat loudly. "I thought I told you to work on your paper, Clary." he didn't look at her, and continued to write something furiously. His voice was quiet and grounded so that the whole class seemed to lean forward to listen in on their conversation.

"I know, but-"

"I thought my instructions were quite clear." he still spoke in a hushed tone.

"They were, but-"

"Then why are we still having a problem?"

"I don't think I deserve to write this." she mumbled quietly.

Mr. Davies finally stopped writing and looked at her, twirling the pencil in his hands. "And why do you think that?"

"Well…because I didn't _do_ anything."

"Exactly."

Clary blinked. "Sorry, _what?_"

"You're writing it precisely because you did nothing."

"What did you want me to do? Stop them from acting like idiots?" she snorted, folding her arms.

"That's exactly what I wished you'd done." he had his elbows on his desk, his fingers holding the point and eraser of the pencil.

"Since when was I assigned babysitter of your class?" her voice was growing considerably louder.

The class now had now stopped working, pencil scratching quieting, all fascinated with their exchange.

"I only expect better from you that is all. You're a leader. People will listen to you." his face was unreadable.

An unreadable face that she wanted to slap. This wasn't a freaking confidence session with her counselor! It was Biology of Life Science, she barely said anything in this class, much less had a real conversation with Mr. Davies. This was a class, a subject that she loathed entirely.

"I'm sorry if you expect too much of me then. _Your_ class isn't my responsibility!" this was practically the stupidest conversation ever.

"No it isn't." he replied calmly, "But you have a responsibility to do the right thing." he set down his pencil. "I believe a separate paper will be beneficial to you...Five pages, I think?"

Clary gaped at him. "But…but I have the other one, too." she protested.

"Yes, but because I know you're _responsible_," he smiled. _Like that would help quench the burning fire of hatred in my soul that I've saved primarily for you_! "I believe you can turn in both by next week. If you don't turn in both, then it's an automatic zero."

"But that's so unfair!" she exclaimed, her face contorted in rage.

"Life isn't fair, Clary. Maybe you should realize that before you go around expecting to get everything, because that'll just bring disappointment." he began to write again, signifying that he was done talking about it. Clary stood there stupidly for a few seconds, fists balled up and her jaw clenched, before she walked back to her desk stiffly.

Everyone avoided her eye, pretending to work on their papers. Clary passed only one student who would look at her; Jace Herondale. His famous half smile was ever present then, watching her sit down. She ignored him and opened her notebook, staring at that oddly empty piece of paper. She hated that sheet. She glared at it and ripped it out of her notebook, crumpling it into a ball. The two girls both gave her an odd look, but otherwise left her alone. She began a doodle of characterized Mr. Davies, tied to a spinning wheel, an invisible person throwing knives at him. Satisfied, she ripped this out, too and crumpled it up.

She was able to finish her first paragraph, which she thought was a good start. The rest could be sugar coated with a bunch of fancy words. If she had two essays, both due Thursday, she'd barely have time to juggle art projects _and_ work at the ice skating rink.

The bell rung, everyone leaving gratefully, some grumbling amongst their friends while they gathered up all their stuff and left to their next class. Clary glared at Mr. Davies' bowed head, still writing whatever it was he was writing.

**So tell me what you think in the review box below please!**

**I promise some more Jace in the next chapter...scratch that, a whole LOT of Jace in the next chapter!**

**-La**


	2. The Compatibility of Mr Garroway

**Your all lucky I had this ready, because if I hadn't typed it out earlier, I wouldn't have posted it tonight, because I'm trying to finish City of Heavenly Fire as soon as possible so nothing is spoiled. So far, there's been a couple of deaths but I'm not heartbroken and sobbing into my pillow, so there's that. Anyways, here's this next chapter! I'll be posting maybe once in a week or every two weeks. I'm starting a lot more ideas this Summer, SINCE i DON'T HAVE ANY MORE SCHOOL! So I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm nearing the end of Midnight Flower, so you should check it out if you haven't already. It's kind of taking up my priority right now. So enjoy!**

**-La**

**Chapter 2**

Clary's fourth hour was a study hall, so she wasn't in too much of a hurry to get there. She ran into Isabelle, pulling her to her locker.

Izzy leaned on the locker next to hers. "Sooooo…I heard about what happened!"

Clary sighed, twisting the lock to reset it before putting in her combo. "I don't know why you're sounding so happy about it, I've got enough to do as it is. Really, do I need any more homework?"

Isabelle frowned, confused, "Wait. What are you talking about?"

"Last hour. What are you talking about?"

"Sebastian!" she shrieked, his name seemed to echo along the halls. "You finally broke up with him!"

"Thanks for reminding me." Clary grumbled grouchily.

"Now you're free and single like me! You can date anyone you want now!"

Clary sighed, shoving her Biology book roughly into her small locker and gently laid her art portfolio on the top shelf of her locker. She closed the door, turning to face her friend. "You know the reason I broke up with him isn't just so I could date other guys. I'm really, really busy this year, and that means boys are a _big_ no-no."

"Ah, come on! You're going to be so boring this year! It's Senior year, isn't having fun and screwing around the best part of it?"

"Not if you want a perfect record to get into a perfect school." she said indignantly.

Izzy scowled as they walked together, knowing she couldn't dissuade Clary. They sat down in the back of the room while the teacher took attendance. She announced she was done, so several students got up to get a pass to somewhere. Clary stood up with them, waiting in line behind a tall, blonde girl. Well...compared to her. Izzy gave her a questioning look. "Library." she mouthed. Isabelle nodded, grabbing her things and leaving with her to go downstairs.

"What's this thing I hear about last hour?"

Clary clenched her fists. "Mr. Davies was late to his stupid class, so everyone was going insane. He walked in and like, exploded and gave us all a ten page essay. AND then he gave me an extra five page paper, too."  
"What?" Isabelle, much to Clary's satisfaction, looked shocked. "That's so dumb! Why did he punish you with extra?"

"Well…"

"Clary." she said in a warning tone. "Please tell me you didn't talk to him?"

"And if I did?" she responded weakly.

"Clary." she groaned. "What were you thinking? You always let your temper get the best of you."

"No I don't." she said offensively. "And I didn't."

Sure."

"Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

Because you do all the time." she smirked, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, you do." she laughed.

"Name one example." she was sure that it was an incident where Izzy was overreacting.

"Hmm, how about in fourth grade, when you punched Meliorn in the face because he tugged on one of your braids?"

"I was nine." she reasoned.

"In seventh grade, you threw your mashed potatoes at Jace because he accidentally spilled his tomato soup down the front of your pants-"

"He did that on purpose, he deserved it! He thought it would look funny." at first she frowned, but then smiled fondly, remembering what it was like to shove her food into his hair and face.

"Freshman year you knocked out Seelie just because she said you were anorexic."

"She_ just _called me anorexic?" Clary almost laughed thinking back on that day, watching her stupid mouth gape open, her saliva drooling down her cheek. She hadn't meant to hit her head, just shove her against the lockers once or twice…

"Ok, maybe I'm a _little_ violent. But I never did any of those things without reason. Someone always instigated it."

Isabelle didn't say anything to her as they sat down in one of the back tables that looked out on the courtyard. They both pulled out homework, Clary working on her paragraph about responsibility. Best to be working on both of them.

Then the bell rung again, and they headed off separate ways. Clary passed the Freshman locker bay and continued further down the hall to the art rooms. She breathed the smell of paint gratefully, the scent soothing her almost like a tranquilizer to the pounding headache created from her essays. Her teacher, Ms. Oakenly was sifting through some materials in back room, muttering to herself.

"Do you need any help?" Clary asked. Ms. Oakenly shrieked and jumped, an orange paint tube clenched in her hand squeezed so hard that the top shot off and squirted all over her teacher's face and blouse. "Oh, dear. Silly me. Just looking for some purple…" She drifted off when she noticed Clary staring at her. "Yes? Can I help you?"

Ms. Oakenly took off her glasses and tried to clean them off with little success. She sighed, putting on her glasses and squinted through them, the paint just smeared around a little more. "Here, let's get you to a sink." Clary took her arm, leading her blinded teacher across the room. She bumped into a desk, her arm trying to find a surface, saying, "Oh, that's a desk."

Clary turned the faucet to warm, "Here"

She thanked her, splashing her glasses under the drain, rubbing the lenses of any orange. Some students had started to drift in, the Freshman staring at their teacher, while others sat down, unfazed. Most were used to Ms. Oakenly's crazy antics.

She was Clary's favorite teacher by far. She was young, less than thirty with light brown hair always pulled back in a frizzy ponytail. She was very eccentric, scatterbrained and jumpy, and Clary absolutely loved it. Art was sometimes randomly inspired, not forced.

She had two Art classes that year, Painting and Sketching, and earlier in the day Art 4 with the other teacher, Mr. Lunk, who was disappointing compared to Ms. Oakenly's teaching methods.

She didn't even try to get the paint stains out of her white blouse claiming, "I always hated it anyways. Too plain and boring. I think it looks better this way. Don't you think?" Ms. Oakenly picked at the vivid orange stain. Clary smiled and nodded, not telling her how awful it was. She had attempted her hair, but flecks of dried paint was still visible on her cheeks and hairline.

The bell rang just as Ms. Oakenly had cleaned up. She thanked Clary again quietly and made her way to the front of the classroom, Clary putting her stuff on her desk and sitting down. "Today, we'll be continuing the painting you've all been working on the past week. Everything you should need is on the back counter, so get to it. If anyone needs any advice, feel free to ask me. Remember, it's due tomorrow, so make sure you're working hard."

The students all disbanded, fumbling with their easels, canvas', and paints. Clary had already finished it the day before, thankfully, so she had one less thing to worry about. She knew she should be working on her essays, but she was too brain dead to write anything sophisticated or meaningful.

Instead, she worked on her drawing of the building from earlier. She pulled out her charcoal and set to work on the shadows and shading. She shut everything out again; the busy hubbub of working students around her and the radio (Ms. Oakenly insisted that all the arts were connected, and so, therefore, that must mean that music could inspire artwork. But Clary couldn't see how Miley Cyrus's inability to not stop was supposed to inspire better drawings).

Ms. Oakenly drifted past her, smiling serenely at her drawing, whispering "Keep it up." Clary beamed at her praise, working on it until they all left for their next hour. She went immediately to lunch, pulling out her sack lunch and ate it alone, as usual. Isabelle's lunch was a different hour, and so she sat quietly, stuck at a table that was just the opposite end of the table to the stupid Jocks. And in the middle, glorified by his thick-headed football teammates, was Jace Herondale.

He, of course, had two girls on either side of him, alternatively whispering in his ear something so funny, he would start laughing, and so, the whole group roared. They of course had no idea what they were laughing at, but it must've been pretty funny.

She pulled out the essay, the first page covered front to back from earlier in the day. She tried her method of blocking out, but today she found it particularly hard for her to concentrate. Of course, it didn't help that today the Football Clan seemed to be as obnoxious and rowdy as ever. She sighed, putting it away and left for her least favorite class: Gym. Schools might call it PE, or Physical Education, but she was convinced that it was really stood for Personal Excruciation. Those teachers were always out to get her, it felt like. It being warm outside, they would probably run the track outside. She put on her gray PE T-shirt and pulled on her baggy shorts; the smallest pair was still too big for her.

"Alright everyone!" Her gym teacher yelled. Why did they always shout? The increase of volume does nothing to change the level of excitement. Well maybe at clubs, but in school, that wasn't a valid theory. "We'll be running the track today, everyone has to run at least a mile to get full credit for today." So they trudged to the Football Stadium.

And by the end of an hour torture, Clary's T-shirt was soaked through at the back, armpits, and neck. She shoved the soiled clothing in her bag, heading red faced to her English class: Poetry and Creative Writing. It was a class only available to Seniors, and she had been looking forward to taking it for years, And luckily, it did not disappoint.

The teacher, Mr. Garroway, was pretty cool, graying brown hair, just a little frumpy, but approachable and kind. He also had assigned her the desk in the far back corner, a definite plus, but of course, there was always a catch. Such as the most annoying male that existed sat right in front of her. None other than the Jace Herondale.

"Hello, Clary." he grinned sexily at her as he sat down, swiveling his body to face her. Yes, he was sexy. It was a well known fact among the female population.

"Jace." she muttered, pretending to look at her homework in front of her.

"What's so important?" he grabbed the paper from her desk, holding it from his face. "Homework?" he scoffed, "I decided not to do it. Much easier if you don't, you know."

"Yes, because everything easy is good." she scowled, making a grab for the paper. "Jace, give it back!"

He considered this for a moment. "You know, I don't think I will. At least not yet." he turned his back to her, starting to scribble down something. "I swear, Jace, if you're ruining my homework, I_ will_ disembody you."

Jace glanced over his shoulder at her, rising one eyebrow at her. "Disembody me? Don't you think that's a little drastic?"

"It isn't if you ruin my homework." she hissed. She tried to grab it from behind him, leaping out of her seat and almost tackling him.

"Jeez, stop being so uptight. It's just one worksheet. And I'm not ruining it!" he told her, getting exasperated.

"It isn't just a worksheet. It's my grade!" She finally snatched it off his desk, but he reached for it at the same time, both ends pulling and then she closed her eyes as the awful ripping noise reached her ears. She opened them, Jace's mouth agape, holding half of her sheet, Clary holding the other half. She glared at him, her eyes lit with fury.

"Clary, I'm sorry…" he held up his hands, "I didn't mean-" Jace stopped talking, which was physically better for him.

"Fix it." she growled, grinding her teeth to keep her from yelling at him, thrusting her torn paper at him.

"Fix it? How can I fix it?"

"I don't care how." she said angrily, "But do something."

Jace took a deep breath. "Ok, I have an idea, but you should come up with me." he started towards Mr. Garroway's desk. "Oh…and don't talk at all…or at least try to refrain from speaking as much as you usually do."

"I don't talk that-" but Jace had already left and began talking to their teacher.

"…So we did it together because it seemed convenient, especially with the sessions." he was saying when she got there, puttting a different tone in his voice whenever he was buttering someone up.

Mr. Garroway nodded. "That's fine Jace, as long as you continue your system you've got going on."

"What?"

Jace sent a covert glare at her. "The lessons you've been giving me." he prodded.

"Oh…oh, yes! _Those_." she drawled, " Sure, yeah. I was giving him lessons." she stammered, nodding vigorously.

Jace looked like he was ready to slap himself. He rubbed his eyebrow, screwing his eyes shut. "Anyways…You want us to continue the lessons?"

Mr. Garroway stared at Clary for a second longer, her face starting to shine red from embarrassment. "Yes, I would very much like that. You'll find it beneficial for both of you." he explained quickly at the expression on the two unwilling teenagers, "Jace; your grades are almost too low for you to participate in sports, so I suggest you start trying harder. Clary; I'd love to send a nice, long letter of recommendation to whatever school you go to, along with extra credit if Jace's grades improve by the end of the semester."

Jace started to shake his head when Clary cut him off, "I think that would be a really good idea for us. In fact, we'll have a session after school in the library today to get started."

He glared at her, probably wondering what on earth she was doing. "Come on." she tugged at the gaping Jace, "Our seat's this way." he let her pull him along, staring at her like the rest of the students in her class.

"What did you just do?" he hissed once they had sat down in their assigned seats.

"I need help for college." she said bluntly.

"College?" he snorted, "Who needs to go to college?"

"Obviously not you." she glared. "I can totally see you working at McDonalds or a gas station four years from now."

"I think I'll do just fine without college." he said indignantly.

"Only if you take the profession of a pimp." she smiled coolly. "I can see you as one."

"Well." he retorted, sounding a little offended. He opened his mouth to speak when Mr. Garroway interrupted him.

"Is your conversation more important than the lesson, Clary and Jace?"

"Uhhh…no sir, sorry." she stuttered, hating being reproached by teachers.

"Can I continue?"

"Yes." they both muttered, Jace swiveling in his chair and pulled out his phone, texting beneath his desk while Mr. Garroway started again with what he was saying. The topic was actually very interesting-developing characters in a story. She pulled out her notebook and began catching up with the notes on the whiteboard.

It wasn't until five minutes later when Jace suddenly and swiftly snatched her notebook from under her scratching pen. "Hey!" she shouted before clamping her lips together again. The whole class turned and stared at her, she turning a bright shade of red.

"Quite a skeptical you're making today, Ms. Morgenstern." Mr. Garroway's piercing glare made her worried about what he was going to say next.

"But-"

"I think a detention would be best. After school? Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"But..but sir! Jace took my notebook and it surprised me-"

"Ahh, Jace. Taking her things from her? Very original." he smiled jokingly at him. Clary didn't understand what he meant, but it infuriated her even more when parts of the class chuckled and Jace smirked at her. "I think maybe detention with her tomorrow will help both of you; Jace please don't distract others, and Clary, learn to control your temper."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I think you did." he smiled good naturedly.

Clary opened her mouth in protest when he continued. "I think with how much you and Jace have disturbed my class, you can both go down to the counselor's office and sit there." he said calmly.

Detention? _Detention? _She couldn't have detention! It would ruin her perfect record, the kind of one that really good schools look for. Jace nudged her, already standing above her with his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Come on then." Jace muttered. She nodded, dumbfounded. She stood up and grabbed her stuff and shoving it into her bag, left the room with Jace in front.

Clary followed him in silence downstairs, but stopped when he headed in the opposite direction from the office. "Umm…Where are you going?"

Jace spun around, his expression filled with surprise. "You aren't actually going to the office, are you?"

She shrugged. "Where else am I supposed to go?"

"Not there." he came towards her, grabbing her hand, which she angrily shook away from. Since when did he have the right to grab at her whenever he felt like it "Here…follow me."

**Ah, I guess there wasn't a lot of Clace in there...but I KNOW that chapter 3 definitely has some. In fact, more than half of it is with him. So please review and please, any critique is fine!**

**-La**

**P.S. I'm sorry for my review on my OWN story...my sisters an idiot and reviewed in the wrong account...so yeah. That explains why I was complimenting myself...not that I don't do that all the time, anyways...**


	3. The Compatibility of Kaelie

**I was so surprised that Thursday came by so fast! So here it is! Hope the wait was as longs as it was for me. And Clace is here, as promised!**

**-La**

Jace made sure not to touch her as they continued down the Freshman and Sophomore locker bay, passing a couple making out against the lockers. The guy stopped, shouting "Hey, Herondale!" before continuing his activity into the girls bathroom. She shuddered; she'd never use that bathroom again.

Feeling the urgent need to not think about what had and what was happening this very second she tried to start a conversation. "So…..wait. What happened with my paper that you ripped in half?"

"Always thinking about school, are we?" he said lazily, giving her a sideways glance. She gave him a I'm-being-serious-tell-me-what-you-did-with-the-paper look. he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I had already copied it down on my paper by the time _you_ ripped it."

"How did you get it all on your sheet so fast? And no, you ripped it, since you took it in the first place."

"If you were more relaxed, it would never have happened. Anyways, you'll find it easier to do something when you have all the work done for you." he smirked. She stayed silent for a moment

"Did you already-"

"Yes, Clarissa," he used her full name to annoy her, "I already turned it in the bin, so you can calm down now- I'm not an idiot. I think I know where to put assignments."

Clary bit her tongue, fighting back the retort that with his not ever turning in practically any homework this semester, it would make sense for his ignorance in that area.

Heavy silence ensued for several minutes, until Jace broke the awkwardness. "Why do teacher's even send students to the counselor's office, anyways? I mean…what's the point? To sit there on an uncomfortable chair and be bored out of their minds for an hour or so?"

"Well…I don't really see a difference in anything else we do here." he chuckled, Clary smiling in no particular direction.

She hadn't thought they were going anywhere, but it figured, Jace had a plan. He stopped by one set of two glass doors that led outside to fresh air and freedom.

"Won't we, you know…get in trouble from the cameras?"

Jace smirked, "This is the only door that doesn't have any-see, look around, you can't find them-and people use this all the time to leave during lunch hour and not get caught for leaving School grounds."  
Clary gazed skeptically at him and the doors. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." he rolled his eyes.

"Well…Where are we going?" she asked.

"Out." he replied vaguely, wiggling his eyebrows, overdoing the mysterious and aloof sexy character.

"And what makes you think I'll go with you?" she leaned against the wall, folding her arms and tried to raise an eyebrow, but stopped when he stared at her oddly.

He shook his head. "You've come this far." he stated bluntly.

Clary opened her mouth, but didn't have anything to retort back.

"Come on, Clary. Take a risk." he urged, tugging on her arm.

She gave him a sideways glance. "My mom told me not to give into peer pressure." she joked, pulling her arm away from him.

Jace rolled his eyes. "Like anyone actually believes that crap." he snorted

Her eyes flicked out the window, where she didn't have to worry about all the stressful cares in her life _and_ go somewhere with Jace Herondale was rather tempting. Seeing she was wavering, he continued his rationalization, "It's last hour; it isn't like you're missing anything. You can leave early and get some ice cream with-" he gestured to himself, "-this, or you can sit in an uncomfortable chair for another 45 minutes, wallowing in your self-shame.." he drifted off, knowing his temptations were too good to deny.

"Where's the ice cream at?" she asked begrudgingly.

"Taki's." he grinned foolishly, very pleased that he'd gotten her.

"Fine, deal." she said quickly, pushing past the doors "Might as well drown my sorrows." he followed her, still grinning to himself.

**pagebreak**

Jace's car was high end, of course (What was she expecting?). Sleek and black, Clary didn't really care that much for it. She didn't know the name of it considering a car was a car.

He unlocked it, the vehicle making a satisfied beeping noise, the lights flickering like a dog wagging its tail when its master comes by. She felt a little awkward and nervous, going somewhere with the hottest guy in school …alone…It would've made any girl nervous, despite any lack feelings for said boy. The awkwardness was only increased when he rushed over to her side and tried to open the door for her. "I've got it, geez…" she stumbled into it in a huff; much to her great exasperation, Jace found that she apparently couldn't open or close a car door without help from a male character.

Jace came around to the driver's side and sat down saying, "I swear, you woman claim chivalry is dead, but since you all got independent and mighty, men can't do anything anymore." he turned the ignition, the car thrumming underneath them and pulled out of the student parking lot.

Clary snorted. "Yes, sorry for the disadvantage of taking away the dignity of your exquisite gender. Getting woman suffrage and all."

Jace frowned. "Isn't woman suffrage _against _woman's rights?"

Clary mentally slapped herself, "No no…It's…Oh my gosh, you are such an_ idiot_!"

"You know, you're saying that, but you haven't clarified _what_ it actually is." he smirked, taking a moment to glance at her before returning his eyes to the road.

She breathed and counted to ten before beginning again."Woman suffrage _is _woman's rights."

"Oh," his brow furrowed, "then why-"

"Just because suffrage sounds like suffer, it is _not _ the same thing."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

Clary shook her head; he was too much of a bonehead to understand anything. "Anyways, chivalry isn't opening the door for someone, it's generally like the term saving a 'damsel in distress.' No one needs men's capabilities of opening doors and other petty things the like."

"What do you prefer us to do, come in with a white horse in shining armor?" he said, smiling for once.

"Preferably?" she said, "No."

He grinned wider, "So what you're saying, you want chivalry dead." he turned the corner into the Taki's parking lot and leaned a little more than necessary into Clary. She pressed herself against the door.

"No, I just wish they would stop throwing themselves at girls." Jace cleared his throat, sitting normally in his chair again. "And for girls to stop doing the same thing, as well."

He parked the car. "So, you basically have a problem with humanity."

"No." she laughed. "I have a problem with everyone between the ages of 14 to 25."

"That's hard to deal with, especially since, you know, you go to High School. And then you'll be, you know, going to College."

"An endless battle."

He got out of the car, running to her side so quickly she didn't have time to register it. He opened it, saying, "Are you feeling distressed at all?" he smiled, poking her arm as they both walked up to the restaurant doors. Despite Jace being infuriating once in a while, Clary felt like she had succeeded in keeping up the conversation before it had gotten too awkward. Maybe her social skills were growing!

"No, just a little annoyed." she swatted his hand away, him making an apparent effort to open the door for her as they walked into the small, airy restaurant. He lead them to a booth in the back corner of the room. Menus were already waiting for them on the table. Clary sat down, picking one up and leafing through the dishes. "They have really good pancakes here." she stated off-handedly.

"Just make sure you don't have the 'Faerie's Drink' here." he warned, picking his up as well, his eyes skimming the pages.

"Why not?" she looked past the edge of her menu at him.

"They've got weird stuff they put in it. Makes you act funny."

"Like drugs?" she laughed.

"Sure. Something like that." he said aloofly.

"Are you sure?" her eyebrows raised.

"Pretty sure."

"The drinks are like, six dollars. You can't get drugs that cheap." she scoffed.

"You never know, it could be crappy drugs." he offered, shrugging.

"Crappy drugs? Is that even a thing?"

"Ah, Clarissa Morgenstern-too classy to do crappy drugs. She obviously gets the high end stuff." he said loudly in a newsman's voice.

"Shut up!" she blushed. "I never said I took drugs!"

"With all of your acclaimed knowledge of said subject, I assumed you were experienced in the matter."

She rolled her eyes. "Is there even a difference?"

"Well, the effects can be a bit different-"

"Wait…" she cut in, smiling. "How do _you_ know the difference?"

A grin slowly grew on his as well, actually sounding a little guilty, "Sometimes stupid people do stupid things."

"Really?" she blinked at him. "I'm guessing their stupidness somehow affects their ability of making stupid decisions?"

"Now, don't go making too big of assumptions here." he laughed. He paused before speaking again. "I had some last year. Really weird."

Clary feigned shock. "Mr. Football star? What would coach say?"

He rolled his eyes. "It was off season. Didn't matter." he waved it off.

"But don't you need to like, train or something?"

He snorted, "You don't need to be sober to work out."

A waitress finally came over to their table for orders, which Clary normally would've been grateful for, but she was a bit different. Normally, Taki's waiters wore quite drab uniforms, but this woman had somehow been excused to jazz it up a little. Such as: lowering the neckline (of course) and the hem of her skirt, wearing black fishnet tights, and right below her collarbone was a bedazzled nametag that read: Kaelie. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, her hair curled in a sexy way that Clary only dreamed of having.

Hey Jace." she flashed a dazzling white smile.

Now, guessing by her apparel of dress and her low income job, she could easily conclude what her side profession was, Clary looking her up and down distastefully. But apparently, that was what turned Jace on. He slouched a little more in his seat, lowering his head a little bit so that his hair fell into his eyes, giving him that sexy, I-don't-care look.

"Kaelie." he greeted coolly, his voice suddenly taking on a silkier and deeper undertone.

Clary almost gagged, but resorted to swallowing thickly and looking out the window, seeing the reflections of both Jace and Kaelie.

"Haven't seen you here in a while." she slowly rested her elbows on the table, placing her chin on her knuckles, her butt casually sticking up in the air to where if someone passed behind her, they would have a clear view of her thonged buttocks. Smooth, very smooth.

"Been busy." he replied vaguely, his eyes inconspicuously flicking over all the spots of her body that she successfully was showing off.

Clary's feet began to tap nervously, her fingers clenching repeatedly, staring determinedly out the window. "Maybe you can come around sometime, " she said aloofly, "when you're less busy."

"I'm free right now." he ruffled his blonde hair.

Oh yes, because it was socially acceptable to get it on in public. But then again, social limits had never stopped Jace before…

Kaelie actually glanced at Clary, giving her a mixed look of smugness and disgust, eyeing her frayed jeans and baggy t-shirt hanging on her slim frame. "How about when you don't have…company." she sneered the word.

Clary glanced at Jace, allowing herself just a second. He had leaned forward onto his elbows, his hands clasped tightly and his mouth slightly parted as he kept sweeping his eyes over Kaelie. Clary cleared her throat, Jace snapping his gaze to her, actually acknowledging her. What a surprise!

"No, she's just a girl from school. I agreed to buy her some ice cream." thanks Jace, just thanks. As if she didn't need to feel threatened and self conscious of herself anymore than needed. Way to go making her sound like a little five year old to a…well, someone who does _not _act like a five year old. At all.

"I'm fine, Jace. I actually need to go to the bathroom…er…don't mind me, I'll just go and-and…er, come back after a while." she did not need to see what else would happen. Clary left as fast as she could, only glancing behind her to see Kaelie scooting next to Jace, their faces inches apart, her red fingernails tugging at his chin. His whole body was tensed up, eyes very, creepily dark from his gross, manly feelings of lust. He hadn't even checked to see where she was going.

She hid in a stall, thinking over how much she hated Jace Herondale.

Who did that to people anyway? Bring someone with them to a restaurant, have a nice conversation, and then go hook up with a slutty waitress? She sighed. Had she really expected anything higher than that, though? Really, he was Jace Herondale; he was the epitome of man whore.

But maybe she was just a little bitter about the ice cream.

After a half an hour, she decided it was safe to leave; hopefully they had finished whatever they needed to and Jace could drive her home.

The booth was empty-luckily-all except for a chocolate milkshake. Clary walked unsurely toward it, glancing around for a sign of him. She checked the parking lot; his car was gone.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw and counted to ten. Uncurling her fists, she wondered then what she was going to do. Her mom was still working, and her dad was still at home without a car, and Isabelle was still at school. She shook her head and grabbed her cup filled with chocolaty goodness. She had barely walked out of the store when a man came running at her, yelling.

"Hey! HEY! You didn't pay for that!"

"What do you mean? Jace-Wait…did a boy with blonde hair order this?

"Yes, but he said a girl in the bathroom would pay." he frowned at her.

Clary jaw dropped. He had brought her here after getting her detention, been seduced by a whorish waitress, left her to walk home alone in New York City, and made her pay for her milkshake. She grudgingly pulled open her bag, looking for her wallet among all the crap in it. But she couldn't find it, the man standing impatiently in front of her. She searched it again in vain, and swore under her breath when she realized she had left it in her locker "Ummm…I don't have any money." she said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Then you don't get it!" he said angrily, trying to grab it from her.

But this was the last straw. She wanted this milkshake, and he couldn't stop her from having it. She _would_ have it. She _deserved_ it. She sized him up: short, not so much stocky, but a little on the pudgy side, a balding head. She could so take him. So she bolted.

The shake was still clenched in her hand as the man tried to run after her. But having just trained her running skills in Personal Excruciation, and he probably not seeing a gym-which was obvious by his waistline-fell behind quickly, yelling and screaming at her to stop, or for other people to stop her. But the is was a city. No one seemed to react to anything.

When there was no sight of the portly man anywhere, she allowed herself a few sips of the creamy deliciousness which was only a little melted. Ah, the reaped benefits of success and stealing things!

**pagebreak****pagebreakP****agebreak****pagebreakpagebreak****pagebreak****pagebreak****pagebreakP****agebreakP****agebreak****  
**

Clary finally got home at 6, much to her dismay. The whole time she had brooded over her hatred for Jace. She was hoping maybe they would combust spontaneously, or maybe (a bit more realistic) got hit by a semi on the way to Jace's house and been crushed beyond recognition.

This had made her smile as she had walked down the ever darkening road before her. Fall was coming fast, and so evenings were coming sooner and colder. When she walked into the apartment door, she saw that the table was already cleared off after dinner, her mother scrubbing away at the dishes in the kitchen. She hugged her mother from behind. "Hey mom."

"Hi Clary." she sniffled. Her voice was raw from crying and yelling.

"What's. . ." she drifted off-it was obvious what was causing her distress. "I thought you said you would try and work it out with him." she said calmly in a quiet, comforting voice. It had first been odd for Clary when it had all begun three or four weeks ago. The whole situation had flipped their roles as mother and daughter- Clary was the comforter while Jocelyn was the comfortee.

Her mother was normally a strong woman, so it was odd and a little scary when she had come home from school one day to find her mother sobbing across the kitchen table. She hadn't known what to do, so she had asked her dad. It was apparent then, why her mother was crying.

Her father had just been fired from his job earlier that week, so she could understand his anger at being let down. It made their small circumstances even smaller. Clary had even offered to help pay the bills with her measly minimum wage from the Ice Skating Rink, but both parents actually agreed on something: her money would go to her college funds. They had said she'd need every penny she could get, especially since her family couldn't help pay at all.

Clary had hoped that these occurrences would stop and her parents would quit fighting, but as it became daily, she gave up hope that her afternoon wouldn't either be filled with crying or shouting. She honestly felt sorry for the people next door.

"I tried, honey, I really did. He just…won't…listen." she started to cry again. Clary stifled a sigh. She had grown tired of her parents at the moment. She loved her mother and father dearly, but it wasn't very fair on their part to bring their child into it. Jocelyn constantly sought pity from her, and any moment she spent with her father, it was like he was trying to get her on his side. Frankly, Clary was on no one's side. She preferably wanted to hole up in her room for the evening like she usually did, but tonight her mom was notably pathetic, so she offered, "How about I help you with dishes."

Jocelyn smiled tearily. "That would be great, Clary, thank you."

Jocelyn then began to complain about Valentine, her work at the nursing office, the measly money they had, how much she wished Clary's father would get off his butt and find a new job and stop being so pathetic…

Clary blanked out at the end of it, focusing on cleaning and putting all her frustrations on each dish. Frustration for her mother, frustration for her dad, frustration for Jace, frustration for the Milkshake Man, frustration for Mr. Davies, frustration for school…She had no idea how frustrated she was until then, how angry she was with her life.

Jocelyn had just finished drying the last spoon when Valentine walked in. Clary could almost feel the tension in the room. Like, it was almost a fourth person it was so present. He headed straight to the fridge door, opening it immediately and poking his head in.

"How was school, kiddo?" he asked absently, ignoring Jocelyn and smiling at Clary.

"Well, it was High School, so it obviously sucked."

He chuckled. "So same old same old?"

"It's almost like I'm living the same day over and over."

"Well, you've only got eight more long months to endure, right?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." she groaned.

"I'll try not to." he grinned, walking over to kiss her forehead and left, salsa in one arm and chips in the other. He left to continue whatever he was watching on ESPN.

"I'm going to go work on homework, okay?"

"Alright sweetie, get on it." she said, staring at the door Valentine had just left through. Her eyes were only a little red, but very puffy.

She bolted to the door at the end of the hall, swinging the door open and slamming it as soon as possible. She leaned against it, slumping onto the ground. When would her parents stop fighting?! She knew her dad could be a royal pain in the butt at some points, but it gave her mother no right to yell at him. And he had no right to take out his anger on her.

She struggled over to her bed, her entire body aching from her three or five mile walk, she pulled out her essays, staring at the two sheets of paper covered in meaningless scribble. She couldn't tell how long she sat there, doing nothing. It was perhaps the most peaceful she'd felt the entire day. But of course, that moment shattered as it always did. The night was interrupted with Jocelyn and Valentine, firing retorts back and forth to each other.

Clary's parents' voice seemed to start escalating in volume by the minute. The walls may as well have been paper with how thick they were. Did either of them really care about whether she could hear? Hadn't they screamed at each other enough today?

A wave of anger and frustration and anxiety flared over her and she couldn't handle the pressure of being underneath it all. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the ragged voices rising impossibly louder. She tried her blocking out method-it usually worked at times like these-she had gotten quite good at it. But tonight it was useless; she was feeling too much-she couldn't push away it away anymore.

She collapsed onto her pillows, screaming with all her might at all the stress in her life into the green, furry one that she had gotten from her 7th birthday. If anything, screaming only flared her temper. So she clamped a pillow down on both her ears, muffling out the sounds successfully, hoping that when she released it, there would be nothing to hear anymore.

**So how do you feel about this chapter? Now that we've been introduced with the big conflict-how do you like it? There will definitely be more on her parents and of course-High School. Ugh, i feel so sorry for her, I do NOT want to be anywhere near my school right now!**

**-La**


	4. The Compatibility of Seelie

**Here's chapter four, so I hope you all enjoy! Please review, I'm serious...**

**Shout out to: ifyouknew, Kisses on the Steps, Speshbubbles, and KyKat! You guys are awesome for reviewing!  
**

**Keep hitting the Follow and Favorite button, as well!**

**Read and Enjoy!**

**-La**

Clary laid her heavy head on her desk, too tired and exhausted to even remotely pay attention to any of Mr. Lunk's lesson on brush technique. She'd had this same lesson a million times already, it was like he thought they were all Freshman or something.

She'd fallen asleep the night before with her pillow blocking out any sound. So naturally, she'd woken half an hour late, only to hear the alarm clock blaring when her mother came in, telling her she had about ten minutes before she had to leave for the bus. Clary vaguely remembered pulling her hair into a ponytail, throwing on a random t-shirt and a pair of Capri's. She'd fallen asleep the night before without dinner, and hadn't had time to grab anything for lunch or breakfast in the morning, so she'd be starving the whole day. The whole time, the only thought she could actually distinctly recall was _I hate Jace I hate Jace I hate Jace I hate Jace. _

He was the one person she felt justified in blaming for how messed up her day had been yesterday. Well, maybe Mr. Davies as well.

To make matters worse, she had just barely made the bus, having to run to catch up with it before the doors closed. That in itself was awful because of all the annoying students jeering at her, rolling down their windows, shouting taunts. Clary ignored them as if they weren't there, pulling out her papers, needing every spare moment to catch up since yesterday she hadn't got nearly enough done as she had hoped. She'd have to work with even more fervor than usual. Her only consolation throughout the day was that it was Friday. She wouldn't have to deal with people for another two days.

Mr. Lunk moved monotonously from brush, and then pencil, and finally charcoal, giving them a little time at the end of class to work on anything they had learned, which Clary didn't do, refusing to believe she had learned anything new that she'd already been taught countless times before.

So she was a little grateful to leave when the bell rung, heading to her American History class downstairs. It was a really easy class for her, taking notes during lectures was the only thing she needed to do for an A. So the time sadly passed away quickly to where she had to go to Biology of Life Science, something she had been dreading the whole day. Firstly, she was beginning to like Mr. Davies less and less with every passing minute, and secondly, because Jace was in there, sitting only a few seats behind her. He could harass her as much as he wanted to.

When she walked in though, Jace was already busy with the same girl sprawled on his lap from yesterday. Clary walked stiffly to her seat, rolling her eyes; switching from girl to girl as usual. Isn't it what Jace always did? The class was unusually quieter; maybe they all feared Mr. Davies' wrath-like they should.

He was late yet again, so she began a little doodle on her desk of a random landscape when Jace decided it was a perfect time to torment her. "Sooo, Clary…How was your day yesterday?"

"Fine, actually." she replied sarcastically "Especially the way home. Definitely the highlight of my week."

"I thought you might enjoy that." he smirked, leaning back in his chair, his fingers intertwined behind his head. The girl's hands was running all over his chest and arms.

"Then you're right." she sneered. "The part where I was chased because I stole a milkshake was enjoyable, as well."

At this he leaned forward, trying unsuccessfully to fight back a grin. "You what?"

She sighed. Why had she told him? "I stole a milkshake because I didn't have any money."

He covered his mouth, stopping a laugh just in time. "Um…Sorry? You what?"

"I didn't have money with me, and this guy came up and told me to pay for it, because _someone_ didn't buy it like they said they would," she gave him a pointed look, "and I wanted it, so I ran but he couldn't catch up with me."

He chuckled loudly. "And now you're banned?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm a criminal and on the wanted list and everything."

"I can see it now." he splayed his hands in the air. "Clarissa Morgenstern- Master International Thief-must be caught at all costs. Largest crime: stealing a 2 dollar milkshake."

She almost laughed aloud, but stopped herself. He was somehow making her feel better and less angry at him. She did _not_ want that. It was easy to get mad and blame things on Jace.

The girl on his lap bounced lightly, kissing his neck, obviously having a problem with the lack of attention she was receiving from Jace.

"Are you going to tell your girlfriend here about your exploits last night?"

He snorted. "She's not my girlfriend. Katie Doorbeck is."

"Who's that?"

"A junior. It's…ah, an open relationship."

"On both sides or just your end?" she raised her eyebrows. She guessed it was the former; no girl in their right mind would want to have another guy when they had Jace Herondale as a boyfriend.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt- wait no, it probably would. Well, it won't kill her at least."

"So you're currently seeing three different people within a couple of days?"

"What can I say? I'm a busy boy." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She wrinkled her nose. "You're disgusting."

She turned around in her seat, not liking where this conversation was going. From the sounds of it, the girl had finally succeeded in gaining Jace's priorities for a couple seconds when Mr. Davies came bursting in, looking a little ruffled and tired.

"Alright class, let's begin." he jumped right into the lesson about all the important things that should be noted when dissecting a goat's lung, announcing that the lab would be held on Monday. Great, another thing to look forward to over the weekend.

Clary was relieved to leave the class, walking as fast as she could to her locker, where Isabelle was already waiting, ready to pounce on her. "Where were you yesterday? I stopped by your locker but you weren't there."

"I got detention with Jace Herondale, and so we got sent down to the office, but he said it was dumb and useless going there anyway, so he took me to Taki's-"

"Hold up," she held out her hand. "_Jace Herondale _took you somewhere?"

"Yes, weren't you listening?" she asked impatiently.

"I know, it's just that…He took you_, Clarissa Morgenstern_, out to EAT!" she cried clapping her hands once, her eyes shining with excitement. "You are _so_ lucky!"

"Yeah, sure…" she grumbled. "It was such an amazing experience."

It was almost comical how drastically her face fell. "Uh oh, what happened?"

She rolled her eyes, surprised that she would care that much. She closed her locker and they headed to their study hall. "It wasn't that big of a deal." she lied. When it came to ice cream, it was always a big deal. "It was the usual Jace, so it wasn't like my standards were very high. It just kind of surprised me-'

"What did he do to you?" her large brown eyes cautious. "Did he try to sleep with you?"

"_What?_ No, it wasn't anything like that!"

Her brow furrowed. "Then why did Seelie say that she saw you with him?"

"What do you mean 'with him?' Do you mean just with him, or do you mean _with him_ with him?"

"I mean the latter."

"Of course not!"

She held up her hands in defense. "Sorry, just making sure what I heard wasn't true."

"That would be…Wait, what do you mean what you heard?"

Izzy was fighting back a smile. "It's just that…Well, you see, Seelie Waters apparently saw you and him together in an alley…you know, doing the deed."

"We what?" she exclaimed. Knowing Seelie, half the school had heard it by now.

"Well, she said she _thought_ it was you, because you were with him earlier…"

"How on earth does she know _that_?"

She smirked. "Seelie takes crushes to the extreme."

"As in a creepy obsession and constant stalking?"

"To the point of binoculars trained on his window where she's been camping out there for half a month." she nodded, before the both of them burst into a fit of giggles, the previous conversation forgotten.

"I'm sure she has a little hut built in his backyard…" Clary wheezed, both of them arriving to the classroom.

"I bet…" Izzy gasped, "she sneaks into his house and collects his used tissues and toilet paper." they stood by their chairs, trying to contain their laughter.

"She probably puts it in her scrapbook…and laminates it."

"It reads, 'Here is a piece of glorious toilet paper that was blessed to touch the perfect butt of the hottest male alive, Jace Heron-"

"Who gets to touch my perfect butt?"

Clary almost choked on her spit. She could feel her skin redden almost instantly. "We weren't talking about you." spinning around to face, admittedly, the hottest male alive.

Isabelle was a little pink as well, which was surprising since she never blushed.

"Really?" he folded his arms across his chest.

"Yeah…we were talking about a different Jace." Izzy rushed, her lips thinning together. She looked pointedly at Clary, giving a fast I-don't-know-what-to-do-you-make-something-up look. Clary gave her a panicked I-can't-act-you-do-it-because-we'll-both-look-like-idiots-if-I-try-to-because-I'm-terrible-at-lying look.

"Is there another Jace Herondale alive in existence who's as hot as me? Because I have yet to meet him." always modest, as usual.

"We didn't…say Herondale…We were going to say…ummm," she desperately glanced at Izzy for help, who only nudged her to go on, "Hhhhheronnnnn…" she struggled to think of a different name, "bird. Heronbird. Yeah, not you." she finished quickly, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire now.

"Jace Heronbird?" he nodded, faking that he was convinced with a contemplative expression, stroking a nonexistent beard. "Don't think I've heard of him."

"Nor will you ever meet him." she replied, folding her arms across her chest, more sure of herself now.

"And why's that?"

"Because he's a model." she shot at him quickly.

"Oh really." he said, unimpressed, "Then why-"

She cut him off. "I don't know why I have to answer to you."

"Because you-"

"Hold on…What are you even doing here?" she realized. "You're not even in this class!"

He laughed. "Oh that. Girlfriend. See?" he pointed to a tall blonde girl, sitting quietly with a book on her desk. She was hunched over it, her black, plastic-rimmed glasses kept slipping down her nose. She was wearing a skirt that fell to her knees, that would flounce when she was walking. Her loose button down sirt was tucked in- she was one of those girls that just by looking at them, you could tell they were a good person.

"_That's_ your girlfriend?" she shifted to her other foot, looking over Jace's shoulder.

"Yeah. So?"

"_That's_ Katie Doorbeck?" she said, shocked that she didn't look like a slut.

"Yeah." he said, talking as if he were speaking to a five year old. "Why?"

"Um…nothing." she said, embarrassed again. She was being prude. "It's just you should be in your class."

"I _should_ be there, but I'm not. So it doesn't matter." he waved it off.

Clary stared at him. How could someone not care that much? She bit her tongue though. It wasn't her fault if he had no future.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're holding something back-I feel it."

"Because you can read me so easily. And it isn't like I not hold anything back, either." she snorted.

"You hold things back?" he said, feigning shock.

"Oh, shut up." he then took to staring at her instead of talking, which kind of unnerved her and made her blush.

"What?" she finally exclaimed, extremely exasperated.

"What were you going to say?"

Clary sighed. "Nothing." she lied.

'"No, really. What were you going to say?" he put a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged away immediately, thinking of what his hands had been doing the night before. She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, what now?" Jace said, pretending exasperation, now.

"You don't get to hear every thought that comes through my brain." she said, her eyes cast to the ceiling.

"But everything you think is golden." he joked, a small smile tugging at his lips. He apparently wouldn't leave her alone, so she played along.

"Alas, everyone who doesn't know me is living a pathetic life indeed." she said, picking it up.

"All who _do_ know you are immediately jealous of how much you are a blessing to mankind."

"Where would our world be without me?" she grinned, fighting back a laugh.

"Everything would be chaos; sex in public, drugs legalized, unchivalrous men disrespecting women-"

"The epitome of you, you mean?" she shot immediately, not even thinking about it. She cursed herself; she hadn't meant to be rude, but it came out that way. Clary needed a better filter.

He closed his mouth suddenly, the bone in his jaw popping. Crap. "I'm sure that if everyone was like me, it'd be one hell of a place." he replied coolly. Jace then left her, heading over to his girlfriend.

"What was that?" Clary jumped; she had almost forgotten Izzy was there, much less listening in on their conversation.

"What do you mean?" she said, confused. She glanced over her shoulder at Jace. He came up behind Katie, putting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but when she looked up, a grin split her face. Clary saw her lips form his name and immediately jumped up to hug him fiercely. He patted her back awkwardly until she let go, bombarding him with questions. She guessed it was along the lines of "what are you doing here?" and her scolding him for skipping class from the reproachable look on her delicate face. So he was into goody girls?

"I mean that if you don't like him, then you shouldn't flirt so much."

"_Flirt?_" she said the word like it was poison. "I do not flirt. Especially with Jace Herondale." she scoffed.

"Well, I've never seen you flirt or talk to a male so much in one conversation. Not even with Sebastian, _who's your boyfriend_." she emphasized that last part.

"_Was_ my boyfriend." she corrected. "And I did not _flirt_, and if there was any of that awful word going on…it was Jace. I mean, all we were doing was complimenting me."

"It takes two to flirt." Isabelle said, giving her a sideways look. "I would know."

"What does flirting even mean?" she threw her hands up. "Apparently for you, it means having a pleasant conversation with a guy."

"That's the feat that gives it a name-having a fun conversation with a male."

"But it's more complicated than that-what I saw with Kaelie and Jace yesterday-that was more than what one would call a 'fun' conversation." she finger quoted the air. "Well, I guess in a different point of view, it might be fun..." they both shuddered.

"Well, that wasn't really flirting-that was seduction. And an easy form at that." she explained, wrinkling her nose.

"So let me get this straight; there are only two forms of conversations with males-seduction and flirting? What about when you aren't doing either?'

"That, my friend, is called an awkward conversation."

Clary laughed, but she didn't fully agree with what Isabelle had said. There was one point last year when she had had some of the best conversations with Sebastian. For her, she had realized, that he was more of a really, really good friend that just so happened to be the opposite gender. Two people who just so happened to be boyfriend and girlfriend. What kind of conversations were they? It was especially not seductive, nor was it flirtatious. It definitely wasn't even close to awkward. So where did it lie?

It was something that could only be shared through an intimate relationship that wasn't mainly based on the physical aspect. And that was probably the reason why she had dated Sebastian for so long: the high she got off of intellectual and intelligent conversations about nothing or anything for hours on end was like the roller coaster effect-During the conversation, it was a spiraling, upwards feeling. If you didn't pay enough attention to it, then you would only realize you had been feeling that spiraling when it ended, and you were left drained and sad that it was over.

And for some reason, Sebastian and Clary had been able to maintain that kind of relationship. A wholesome one. Maybe that's what she would call it: a Wholesome Conversation.

"So I take it you don't want to come over?"

Clary jumped. "Sorry…What?"

Izzy sighed, very annoyed. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

"No…Sorry." she repeated, shaking her head. "I was thinking about talking."

"You were…YOU WERE TOO busy _thinking about talking_ than to _listen_ to someone talk?"

She nodded, not fazed by her anger. "Pretty much."

"Putting pretty in front of things doesn't always work, you know."

"Alright, so I guess I'll just say, um…'much?'"

Izzy laughed despite herself. "Stop making me less mad at you!"

"I just have that kind of dazzling personality." she flashed a smile.

Isabelle rolled her eyes, trying to unsuccessfully fight back a smile. "I can't help it, your charm is getting to me." she looked across the desk at Clary, leaning on her arm, her head supported by hand. The metal bracelets on her wrists clanked noisily. "I _was_ saying that you should sleep over tonight since it's the weekend and you are almost done with your essays."

"Almost done with my…" she spluttered, chuckling sarcastically. "Ha! I wish I was that close! I still have around thirteen pages left to write in all. Well, twelve if you consider that my handwriting is going to be smaller than the font on my laptop, and I'm going to make it as big as possible. Double spaced of course."

"It's like you put the font size so that on each page it has one word. 'Responsibility is important, by Clary."

She laughed, "I wish. I have a feeling Mr. Davies wouldn't except that."

Izzy paused, "Well, you still have a whole week to do it."

"I know, but I have work this whole week, closing. It's what I get for taking off two days this week-especially a Friday night."

"Perfect! Then you have to come over. It's like it was meant to be!"

"Perfect? For you?" she laughed bitterly. "No, it's perfect for me to start my homework."

"You really were being serious, weren't you?" she suddenly had a solemn expression.

"About what?"

"About not doing anything fun this year."

"I didn't say that! I said I wasn't taking my priorities away from schoolwork-I have to do well this year-"

"Hold up," she held out her hand, signaling for her to stop, "Since when have you not done well in school?" she asked incredulously.

Clary averted her eyes, letting them wander around the room. Some students were actually studying, but most had phones out and headphones in. Jace had scooted a chair close to Katie's, watching her read (which she found just a little creepy). He was holding her hand, playing with it absently while she ignored him and kept on reading. Someone who didn't give in to Jace's attempts at getting attention. Clary was really starting to like this girl.

"I take it by your silence you know I'm right?"

Clary shrugged and cast her eyes to the ceiling. "Yes ," she sighed, "I've always done fantastic at school."

"Then why are you freaking out?" she asked earnestly, situating her legs so that she could face Clary properly.

"I don't know…I just…I feel a little anxious. Last year and all before I leave all these horrible people and actually study with people who are serious about their profession."

"Then why won't you have fun…or be fun for that matter-"

"Since when I have I not been fun?!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry to say this, Clary, but you _are_ kind of just a weensy bit boring. "

She opened her mouth, but didn't have anything to say, so shut it quickly.

"Really, think about it. When was the last time you _actually_ had some fun?"

Clary racked her brain, trying to think back when she had gone to a social outing or enjoyed herself. "I finished that one book-"

But Isabelle was already shaking her head. "With another person. And you think reading is fun?" her nose wrinkled.

"Reading is enjoyable." Clary retorted, offended for the good name of books.

"Whatever, but it has to be with someone else."

Clary sighed, trying to think back when Sebastian had taken her out on a date. A time that wasn't too long ago that wouldn't help prove Izzy's point that she was a hermit. Last date? Three? Four weeks ago? Maybe more? Oh, my gosh, she thought. She was a hermit. And boring. When did she ever think and admit to herself that she, Clarissa Morgenstern was boring? But her memory sparked on something. "I went to get ice cream with Jace yesterday. That counts." she said triumphantly.

"That doesn't count, either. You were forced into it basically."

"I went there mostly willingly. I mean, he didn't bag me or anything. He just put me in a position where I couldn't refuse him."

Isabelle gave her a look. "That sounds almost like the exact same thing all those girls Jace has slept with's sob story and excuses. 'He put me in a position and I couldn't refuse!'" she exclaimed in a fluttery voice.

"Okay, that is NOT what I said-I said position where I couldn't refuse. You said he put them IN a position and they couldn't refuse. Those are two…ugh, those are two different things and I do not want to think about them. Just…ugh…no. Don't put those kind of images in my head." Clary grimaced.

She rolled her eyes. "Regardless to whether or not we just sounded like one of Jace's exploits/victims, you were really forced into the situation, and you didn't even like it."

"Not true." she contradicted. "I liked the first half. Yeah. The first half was actually kind of nice." she thought back to their conversation about chivalry and damsels in distress. "Anyways, if being forced into social events doesn't count as fun, then I haven't done anything in your definition of 'fun.' Since, really, you force me to do so many things."

"What? I do not force you! You went to all those parties last year with me!"

Clary shook her head. "I usually ran to the bathroom and climbed out of the window and stayed in the car. You were usually so drunk that it was lucky that I hadn't drank anything, otherwise I think we would've been dead by now."

"Oh please, no one gets hit drunk driving except for those really extreme cases."

Clary withheld a sigh. "You could've been that extreme case!"

"Yeah, whatever." she waved it off. "You keep on steering the decision of a sleepover over to different topics to distract me."

Clary groaned. "But you usually do a makeover."

"You look so hot when-" she was cut off from the piercing glare of Clary.

"No makeovers?"

"No makeovers." Izzy agreed, disheartened.

Clary smiled, pulling out her phone and texted her mom (She had made sure to bring it today, especially after the incident yesterday) if she could go over to Izzy's house for the night. She received a reply almost immediately, telling her yes, that she could go, but that she would miss her very much while she was gone and she hoped that Clary knew that she loved her, and to have a good time, and to be careful. Clary sighed; it was like Jocelyn was trying to suffocate her.

"My mom says yes." she smiled, putting her phone away in her backpack. Isabelle clapped her hands once and did a little victory squeal (luckily not an obnoxious one, otherwise she would've slapped the side of her head).

Izzy began on talking about something else, but Clary blanked out, nodding and smiling and laughing and frowning and agreeing with her all at the right times. Her mind was really on her parents, and how they would be like the next time she actually saw them together. If she was sleeping over at Izzy's, then she would probably go home, take a shower, and then leave for work immediately. Her mom would be gone at the clinic, and her dad would be too busy watching TV to even notice her. The night shift was until 11:00, or sometimes 11:30 if they had to clean up that night. So, if she was lucky, she would get home around 12:00, with a side stop for some fast food with Simon.

The bell rung, and they both decided to meet up at her locker after school. And then they were both getting swept away with the huge tide of everyone else.

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By the end of the day, Clary was in a really bad mood. She hadn't eaten anything in 12 hours, and so, likewise, her stomach was growling as loud as it could. "I understand that you're hungry," she thought to it, "so you can stop letting everybody else know, as well."

Ms. Oakenly was gone from school that day, the old lady substitute telling the class that she was really sick. Clary didn't understand how one could just immediately be perfectly healthy, and the next day, be randomly sick. Whatever, not everyone had as good as a metabolism as Clary.

So it was basically another study hall for her. She thought she had accomplished a lot when there was only eleven pages left to write. Four out of the fifteen pages done. Yippee. Again for more than the tenth time that day, she thought about how stupid Mr. Davies was, and how stupid his philosophies were, and how stupid his "expectations" were. In general, the man was stupid.

After she had vented out her hatred to Mr. Davies in a very graphic picture, she went to gym. Yay.

In gym, they had played "avoid the ball" (creative, right?) which was basically dodgeball, but not dodgeball because dodgeball was banned in the school district. So the teachers decided, "Hey, we'll just change the name." There was always a loophole in making their students _not_ suffer. And since everyone seemed to love Clary's face _so_ much, it attracted everything her wonderful classmates threw at her. Her teacher had finally let her go to the nurse after the fourth ball to the face, a bloody nose had already been flowing from the second.

So she headed to her last hour, red faced and a tissue occasionally dabbing at her nose, which she discarded immediately when she got to the classroom. She didn't need Jace to make fun of her today, or she might kill something. Clary was relieved to finally be in her writing class, despite some of the...people in it, actually looking forward to going to Izzy's house. Only one more hour. But she still had detention after school, which she still thought was stupid since it was such a petty reason for such a large punishment. Well...it was a large punishment in her book.

When Clary walked in, Mr. Garroway was not yet in the class. Students were chatting, moving in between the aisle and talking amongst each other. And then there was Jace.

Seelie Waters was entrapped beneath him, kissing each other urgently and a little wetly, on both her and Jace's desk. Clary was a little surprised that Jace had take out his sexual frustrations (which was also surprising in itself considering the large variety of girls he'd had around his arm the past...oh, day or so. How did he have any pent up emotions left?) on Seelie. Everyone knew-even Jace knew-that Seelie had a huge obsession with him for the longest time, and there was no denying that it was really, really creepy.

She ignored the two of them, sitting down in her chair, trying not to show how disgruntled she was. She fought the urge to shove their heads off her desk, but just tightened her fists on her lap. Clary thanked the heavens when Mr. Garroway finally came in, telling the two to save it for later.

The lesson was actually really interesting; the roles of characters in a story. She had the notes and the chart all down on paper, so she thought the homework would be easy. Mr. Garroway passed out the assignment, hitting their row last. Only Jace didn't hand her a paper. "Hey, give me one." she tapped his shoulder.

"There wasn't another one."

She sighed and raised her hand. "Sir, there wasn't a paper for me."

Mr. Garroway nodded. "You said that you and Mr. Herondale would be working together on any future assignments. You did the assignment from yesterday at the session in the library, I assume?"

"You assume correctly." Jace lied. Clary wrung her hands together on her lap nervously; she never liked lying-mostly because she was so bad at it.

"Really? Then how come when I was downstairs in the library for copies, neither of you were there?"

Jace didn't miss a beat. "We found it hard and distracting to concentrate in the library, and so we decided to take it to my house." at this, several students snickered, most likely hearing about their supposed "night" or rather, "dark alley" together. Seelie gave Clary a dirty look, which she just ignored and sat stonily in her seat.

He gave the class an odd look. "Did you really?"

"Yes, we did."

"Good, then I better see it in the bin by Monday." they both nodded, and he continued to address the class. "This is due on Monday as well, so have both worksheets done. You can all disperse into twos."

Jace immediately swiveled, swinging his leg over the side so that his chest leaned on the back to face her properly. He placed the paper in front of her. "You can start now."

She stared at him. "Huh?"

"You can do it now." he rephrased.

She blinked a few times, not getting his meaning. "Alright, anyways. So #1 says: "In roles of characters, the tempter in what way speeds up the plot? -Jace are even paying attention?" she snapped. He was already staring off into a random corner of the room blankly.

"Hmmmm? Were you saying something?" from the look on her face, he jumped. "Oh! You actually wanted me to help you?"

She withheld another sigh and counted to ten. Her patience was wearing very, very thin. Grinding her teeth together, she kept back a frustrated scream. "Generally the term 'Group work' means working together. So obviously, YES! I want you to help! I know, it's a hard concept to grasp for some people, but I think you'll get it."

He shifted. "That's too bad-concept is not grasped." he began picking at his fingernails expertly.

Clary clenched her pencil in her hand. "I'm going to tell Mr. Garroway that you're being difficult." she knew that she was threatening to tattle, but she didn't care. Jace wasn't taking credit for her work for another three months.

His eyebrows rose. "If you tell him tell him now, he's going to wonder why you didn't complain earlier about our 'session' from last night."

Clary shook her head. "I don't think it really matters. I'll just-"

"Dig yourself into a deeper pit. He's going to notice that these lessons are never going to happen, and you won't get that letter, and I won't pass."

"Well, that's your own fault." she sneered. "In real life, you actually have to work for things."

"Yes, but that requires effort." he whined.

"Oh, the concept of actually trying!" she threw her hands up, leaning back in her chair.

"There are obviously concepts I have yet to learn."

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone has effort for something- I put forth effort into school, and you...well...I guess you have sports and...other things." she reddened a little.

He raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. "That doesn't require much effort. Getting a girl and then everything afterwards. As long I find that one thing that drives them crazy-I don't have to try."

Clary's nose wrinkled in disgust. "You make them sound like animals. I'm sure you have one, too."

"Out of all the girls I've been with, I have yet to see someone explicit that kind of emotion or reaction out of me."

Her eyebrows rose. "Out of all them? That would be, what? A hundred?"

His eyes rolled. "Not that many."

"Then how many?"

"That's a vague question. If you mean many how many girls I've been with; around 40 something. If you mean how many times I've had sex, then I don't know."

Clary cringed. "Gross, gross, gross...ew, I did not need to hear that!"

He shrugged. "You asked."

"I didn't mean...ugh, the specifics."

"That wasn't specific. I could go into morbid detail. Such as: Katie. Done dozens of times. Dating since Summer, so I think we might break up. She's getting too clingy. Then there's Kaelie. I usually have her when I'm bored. But she's always way too eager. I already knew the click, so it was way too fast and-"

"Please. Stop. Talking." she plugged her ears then, not wanting to hear anything he said next about his sex life.

"What? does that bother you?" he asked when she released her ears. When she didn't say anything, he smirked. "What? I thought you had a boyfriend."

"That doesn't mean anything." she muttered.

"What?" he grinned toothily. "saving yourself for marriage?"

"And if I was?" she countered defiantly. In truth, they had never reached that point in their relationship. Even if it had been about two years, she couldn't develop enough emotion for him to do that kind of thing without feeling awkward afterwards.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. Because apparently-this is what I heard specifically- that I 'banged' you last night in addition. You hear the same thing?"

"You must've been really busy last night." she muttered, staring at their worksheet, still nothing on it.

"I'll have to make up something for you." he narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to her as if he he could try and guess better if he was only just five inches away from her. "What is it that could make you scream?" he searched her face, his breath ghosting hotly over her face.

She stumbled, jerking backwards in her chair. Clary's pulse jumped as she felt herself falling; she flung her arms out in hopes of finding some kind of purchase. A strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her forward out of her tilting lilt. "You okay?" Jace was fighting back a laugh and was unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

"Fine." she replied gruffly, roughly shaking his hand off of her. She blinked a few times to clear away the odd feeling of euphoria and adrenaline.

"Sorry, wouldn't have said it if you react that way."

"Yes, you would've." she grumbled.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he grinned devilishly, leaning back against his desk with his hands cradling behind his neck. he paused, looking at her in a contemplative way. "Maybe what gets you is just people talking dirty to you. Like the song!" he then began singing the song "Talk Dirty" and tried imitating the annoying saxophone part.

"Oh, please! Do you ever shut up?!" she snapped. "We have ten minutes left and we've got nothing done _at all_!" she thrusted it in his face.

"Then you just do it."

"No! We're supposed to do it...together! I already have enough on my plate than to help _you._"

"How am I supposed to do it if I don't know any of it?""

"It isn't that hard!" she exclaimed. "What's so difficult about it?"

"I don't know?! All these terms are making my head ache! Skeptic and sidekick, shadow and shapeshifter, flat and round...What are those anyway? Skinny and fat characters?"

Clary rubbed her forehead and sighed. "Why did you take this class if you know nothing about writing?"

"An easy A?"

"Well...It obviously it isn't." she snapped, shoving the homework in her bag along with pencil and notebook. The bell rung and she left for her locker thankfully, glad to have even three minutes away from Jace Herondale.

**This was actually going to be longer, but then my stupid toe accidentally hit that red button on the power cord and all the work went unsaved...and I didn't feel like rewriting it. So next chapter will be what you missed-Sebastian, Jace, Detention, getting into the car with Izzy... Whoops, there's the whole synopsis for chapter 5. So my other story is about to end in a couple of days which makes me want to cry, but it will have a sequel. So you should all go look at it tonight...because all 100 of you are awesome and cool. You don't have to wait for updates either!**

**What has been your favorite line so far?**

**Please review!**

**-La**


	5. The Compatibility of Mr Blackthorn

**Hey guys! Here's the next chapter. I was working on The Midnight Flower and the last chapter so I didn't have time to update last week. But now my life feels pretty empty without TMF right now. I am working on the epilogue, and boy is it fluffy and perfect. I can't wait to finish it. So please keep reviewing and being awesome like all of you are.**

**-La**

Clary took a deep breath of Jace-free air. Ahhh, it was refreshing. Even if it was ten minutes, a break from him was much needed, no matter how small.

She saw a dark head by her locker, expecting Izzy, but instead it was Sebastian. Uh-oh, this couldn't be good. She decided to ignore him. Pretending he wasn't there was the best option she could think of. So she kept her head held up high and swept past him, turning the lock before putting in her combo. "Clary, please...I know you're mad at me...just please. Hear me out." She opened the door, grabbing her Biology book and shoving it into her bag roughly. "I don't know what came over me. I...I didn't mean to hurt you in anyway. I just don't understand where I went wrong. What did I do?" he pleaded. "Clary, please look at me."

Clary glared at him, her jaw set before focusing on putting her Art Portfolio back in her bag and replacing it with her Writing textbook. "Clary, I'm sorry. Please, we can work it out, can't we? We've been able to do it just fine before-"

"You didn't do anything, Sebastian." she told him stonily, "Well, not until after, with the whole...yeah. You know. Anyways, my argument still stands; I can't be in any form of a romantic relationship with any guy right now. You're still a distraction. And I don't need that. I'm trying to focus." She glanced at him, which she immediately regretted; he looked heartbroken. And even though she wasn't sad about them, she was sad for him.

"But...Clary, I..." he struggled to get the words out, "Clary, I love you. I didn't realize it until yesterday when you..." he swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you. I know that I wasn't satisfying all your needs, but I can now. I didn't know how much I enjoyed having you as mine until you were gone."

He then reached for her, backing her against the lockers and kissed her. It was so alarming that Clary didn't have much time to react but follow along. Her eyes wide open, she pulled his head away from hers, his head ducked to try and kiss her again, but she held him back, pushing lightly against his chest

"I'm not yours." she backed up away from him, distracting herself by pretending to be looking for something in her locker.

"Do you belong to Jace Herondale now?" he sneered, leaning next to the locker beside hers, folding his arms over his chest threateningly.

"I don't belong to anyone!" she shot back to him. "And what…What are you _talking_ about? Why on earth do you think that something happened between us?"

He ground his teeth, glaring at Jace and his gang across the hall. "Don't think that I haven't heard all the rumors going around about you two? Last night? Together. I'm sure you remember. How on earth could you forget? After all, _it is Jace._" he drawled bitterly.

"You…You're being ridiculous! You're getting jealous over nothing! You believe the rumor mill more than your own girlfriend? I wouldn't have gotten with some guy less than ten hours after our breakup, just so you know if you think so ill of me." she retorted, a little disgusted at him.

"I don't have a girlfriend." he spat. "And it's a little hypocritical of you to say _I'm_ the one being ridiculous. _You're _the one who chose school over your own boyfriend!"

"Well...Maybe it wasn't just because of school!" she shouted after him. "Maybe it was because I didn't love you!" she said the first, harshest thing that would hurt him the most; she knew it would, so it why was it still unsatisfactory when he froze?

"You...You can't mean that..."

"Well...I do. Now go away. I don't want you to talk to me again."

He left, Clary stared coldly after him.

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Izzy came up to her only a few minutes after that, everyone mostly gone, already. The bell rung and then the announcement over the intercom stated in a dreary voice, "All detentions are held in Mr. Blackthorn's class today, room 2003.

Izzy grimaced. "Oooo, have fun. Mr. Blackthorn sucks."

She shrugged. "I've never had him before."

"Consider yourself lucky…until now. He's awful."

"He can't be that bad."

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"Alright, delinquents, you're in here because you're terrible students and even worse as a person. And you deserve every punishment you get."

Clary, frowned, her eyebrows raising throughout his speech.

"I've been assigned detention for the rest of the year, so for those who are particularly distinguishable to cockroaches, get used to seeing me." he snarled. "Everyone come up here and put all electronic devices in the bucket. No one's allowed to do anything; no talking, sleeping, working, eating…None of that." he listed them off on his fingers. "You get to sit here, bored out of your corrupt little minds while I listen to real, music. Maybe a change in a different taste of music will change your point of view on your disgusting lives."

Yep, she thought, he's that bad. Izzy was right.

She glanced around the room; Jace had obviously decided to skip.

Mr. Blackthorn put on his first track, and they all in unison groaned in pain. It was perhaps the worse sound she had ever heard. The female Fifties singer was twangy and off key, the male harmony clashing together all the time. "I said no noises!" he snapped. "Listen and enjoy the music, children. The crap you listen to today is nothing compared to the oldies…Ah, Jace sit down. Nice of you to join us, finally."

Jace smiled charmingly, "Nice to see you too, Mr. Blackthorn." Clary watched in dread as he began to make his way towards her.

No, no…no don't sit next to me….please no. Go away. STOP MOVING TOWARD ME. NO. NOOO! GO AWAY. NOOOOOOOOO! her mind was silently screaming at Jace. Sadly, only she could hear it and giving herself a near heart attack for no good reason.

"Can I sit here?" he asked in a low tone, looking down on her.

No, he CANNOT, Clary! Don't let him push you around! Be a mean person, don't let him sit there! Tell him to go away and don't come back. Tell him that no one likes him! She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead. "Why not?" She shoved her stuff onto the floor, grumbling under her breath.

"So…How has your day been?" he asked brightly.

She glared at him. So he wanted to talk now? Why on earth would he want to know about her day? "We're not supposed to be talking."

He rolled his eyes, obviously irritated and exhaled loudly through his nose. He pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled something down. He shoved it over to her; his writing was almost pretty, better than hers, at least. His was a kind of cursive scrawl.

_He can't hear you, you know. The music's too loud for him to hear anything else._

**How do you know?**

_I've been here enough times to realize it._

She hummed in agreement. He probably was in here all the time.

**Ain't that the truth.**

he snorted and scribbled his answer down.

_And what's that supposed to mean?__!?_

**You're a bad boy. It would make sense for you to be in detention all the time.  
**

_Hey, girl's dig bad boys. Especially you. DON'T DENY IT! EMBRACE THE BAD BOYS!  
_

She choked back laugh.

**Yeah...sure.**

_AHA! YOU'VE ADMITTED IT! You DO like me! I've even got it on paper!  
_

She stared at the sheet, already trying to splutter out that no, that is _not_ what she meant, when she looked over at him. He had that stupid eyebrow raised (really, it was almost ridiculous how much he used that little strip of hair), leaning on his elbow with a small smirk plastered on his face. She took a deep breath. Must keep the cool, Clary, must keep the cool, she told herself over and over. When she thought she was calm enough to write a legible sentence, she put down:

**Ha, yeahhhh...no. You know what I mean. I was attempting sarcasm, but you know, it's kind of hard to it get down on paper.**

_Attempting? The epitome of you in one word _is_ sarcasm. _

**Huh, I thought it'd be smart, or something stupid like that.  
**

_I feel that smart is really vague. It could fit in several categories of smartness...Like know-it-alls, or the geeks and nerdy people, the cool smart kids, or the quiet smart kids that no one knows at all by the end of the school year. And...you know, I feel that you don't fit in any of those.  
_

For a moment she stared at the paper.

**Did you just give me a compliment?**

_Don't get used to it.  
_

**Wouldn't expect anything different.  
**

_You know, maybe it isn't sarcasm. Witty is better.  
_

**That doesn't have a negative denotation.**

_Denotation?_

She sighed.

**Forget it. I don't know why I waste my fabulously extensive vocabulary on you.**

_Vocabulary is meant to be shared; tell me the definition.  
_

**Funny that you would say that, since denotation means the actual definition of a word.**

_Oh._

**Stupid.**

She glanced at him, his mouth parted in surprise and silent laughter.

_Well then!_

She grinned despite herself.

**Do you need a definition of that too?**

He scowled at her

_Haha, cute.  
_

AHA! YOU'VE ADMITTED IT! You DO think I'm cute! I even have it on paper!

He started to chuckle, then laugh, snorting a little. She laughed silently at him, the snorting was a little cute.

_Okay, I'll admit I kind of walked myself into that one._

**Barreled into it, really.  
**

_Agree never to talk about this ever again?  
_

**Agreed.**

She shoved the paper in her backpack when he gave it to her, pulling out her headphones and started her classical music soundtrack on her Ipod. She really needed a nap or something. Undoing her ponytail in a what she thought was a successful flip, she shook her unruly hair and positioned it so the wires disappeared from view. Girl's had such an amazing advantage whenever that kind of ting was involved. Long hair was the answer to everything. Maybe that's why men had long hair hundreds of years ago, too. Legolas was freaking awesome...It was probably because he was the first man she saw on television with long hair that was actually attractive.

And while she reminisced on Legolas, she drifted off into a much needed twenty-five minute nap.

**Twenty-Five Minutes later**

"Get up, Brats. I don't ever want to see your ugly face's in here again...Even if that is most unlikely knowing your record of terrorization. Go home and immerse yourself in older music, maybe that'll make you see a different way to see life."

Clary got up drowsily, staggering a little and stretching her limbs after a yawn. She turned to Jace, who was still asleep. His mouth was gaping, a small dribble of drool was slowly moving it's way down his chin, his head leaning onto his shoulder in what looked like a really uncomfortable position.

"Jace..." she shook his , did he have some nice muscles. _Ah! Ignore it, Clary, ignore it! _"Wake up. It's time to go."

He jolted upright. He blinked widely around him, his eyes darting off in different directions. "Gosh, I had one of those freaky dreams where you fall off a cliff and you actually have that crazy falling sensations." he got up and slung his back pack around his shoulders.

"I hate those! But normally I'm tripping on something."

They walked out of the classroom as quickly as possible "I hate when it happens during school and everyone stares at you."

She laughed, pulling out her cell phone, texting Izzy that she was done and to come pick her up. "Well, I have to go to the front entrance to get picked up...b-"

"I'll walk you?" he offered.

She stared at him for a moment. No one (other than Sebastian, of course) had ever asked to walk her somewhere. She was flattered, how could she turn down an offer like that without sounding like a...well, mean person. But at the same time she didn't want him to. The fact that he was Jace Herondale was a major factor, and that something about walking someone somewhere seemed oddly intimate...and intimate wasn't even close to what their relationship was. More of a Grudgingly Compromise of Tolerance.

"Why not?"

He grinned boyishly, his hands tugging at his back pack straps. "Cool."

"I guess." she mumbled, blushing. She stared at her worn flats, trying to think of something to say without being totally awkward. Clary racked her brain, but failed. They'd just have to walk in awkward silence.

"Sooooo...um..." Jace drawled slowly, buying some time to think of what he would say next to her. "Uh...what...um do you, you know...er...like to do?"

She held back a laugh. This conversation was perhaps a first with a female: an Awkward Conversation. "Umm, I guess I like to read a bit when I have time to and write sometimes...But I really like to draw...or anything in art in general."

He nodded, not continuing any further on what she said. Boy, was he actually making her use her social skills today. "Ummm, so what do _you_ like to do?"

"Me?" she nodded as if to a little kid "Oh...I guess I like sports a lot...Yeah, I do a lot of sports." he stopped, not saying anything else.

"Uh, is that all? There has to more to your life than that."

"Are you saying I'm complicated?" he feigned shock.

"Ha, um no. More like...I don't know. Complex? I don't think your whole life is devoted to sports...But if is there's nothing wrong with that-" she rushed, not wanting to offend him like earlier.

"No, it's fine...I don't really know what I like to do. Well..."

"What?" she smiled.

"I do like one thing a lot...I just never tell anybody." he blushed, looking away embarrassedly.

"You don't have to tell me." Clary was a little surprised that he was telling her this. Wasn't she just a girl from school? A girl who didn't like him or in any way attracted to him? Maybe because she didn't flirt or worship him like his so-called friends? She secretly hoped that his secret hobby wasn't a porn addiction, that would ruin her image of him even worse.

"I really like...Okay don't laugh...It's kind of embarrassing..." she held her breath, hoping that it wasn't porn. "I like to play the piano...and write music." he looked down, ashamed for some reason.

"Oh..." she was a little astounded at him. Why would he be humiliated of a talent he had? "Well...that's actually really cool."

His head whipped up, his gold eyes boring into hers. "You think so?"

"Um, yeah." she replied awkwardly, clearing her throat. She averted her gaze back to her shoes again. She pushed down the weird feeling in her stomach-must be some kind of new punishment from her body for not eating at all that today. "I think that's really cool. I always wished I could play the piano. I had a few lessons when I was younger but we stopped going for some reason." this was a lie, of course. They didn't have enough money to pay for it. "Must've been because I was so bad."

He laughed. "Come on, you couldn't have been that bad."

"I'll never know...I forgot everything-even the note names."

"It's just the ABCs and stop a G and then begin at A again! It really isn't that hard."

"Oh...Maybe music isn't that hard after all."

"You don't need to know anything about theory to make music. Music is inspirational. You can make it up anywhere, anytime."

"You seem pretty passionate about it." she said, just a little impressed.

"Well it's a shame you couldn't do more."

"Yeah..." she looked back up at him before looking back down at her shoes again. He had this really odd look in his eyes, kind of inflamed with fiery fireness...She described it to the best of her abilities. Her knowledge of men's facial feature's was very limited.

"You should come over and I could show you sometime?" she immediately reddened at the thought of being with Jace in his house and he immediately began spluttering. "Not that you would...no I didn't mean that. Why would I let you go to my house?...Oh, I didn't mean that either...I'm just...sorry. That was inappropriate since we don't even like each other...Not that I don't like you! I just don't like you in _that _way...Not that no one likes you in that way...it's just...Sorry. Let me start again. I could show you...No that didn't sound right either." He slapped his forehead. "You can slap me too, if you like. I kind of deserve it."

They reached the front doors, he opened it for her (unconsciously) and kept on digging himself further into his pit. She shook her head. "You're just awkward."

"And that deserves a slap for not being my usual charming self...just do it." he closed his eyes, as if he was bracing himself and pointed to his cheek leaning closer to her.

She shoved him. "Stop it. It's fine. You're just excited that what you like to do isn't being ridiculed and want to share it with that person. I didn't think you meant anything else." she said sincerely, putting a hand on his arm. She immediately regretted it. His muscles...she didn't have to explain any further.

He smiled at her. "Then you'd consider it?"

She took her hand away from him. "Sure. That could be fun, I guess."

"It's just...only my parents know about it. And I think Katie does because of them. But you're the only one I've told."

"Oh..." she blinked, "Why-"

"You seem like someone who would understand and keep an embarrassing secret."

"It isn't embarrassing! It's great that you're interested in something more than sports and women." Whoops. Did she just say that? _Filter, Clary, filter!_

"Women." he stated plainly. "Right." and then his excited expression keeled over smoothly. "What else is there." he chuckled coldly.

"Jace...I didn't mean-" Clary felt a little panicky.

"No...I get it. You only said it because you inferred, and did so correctly." he forced a smile. "There's a car coming up. Is it your ride?"

Silver Fusion. "Yep. That's Iz." Izzy pulled along the curb.

"Heey." she said flirtatiously. "Get in the car and we can begin our night of fun. You look awkward standing there."

Clary straightened her posture and turned to Jace. "Thanks for walking me. Nice talking to you."

A small side small quirked up. "Pleasure was mine."

She nodded, stepping toward the car right when she bumped into Jace. "What are you doing?"

He opened the door for her then, gesturing dramatically to the inside. She sighed; apparently he wasn't letting this go. She climbed in, nodded to him and he closed the door. She slung her stuff into the back seat and Isabelle took off and pulled out of the empty parking lot. "Soooo, how was detention?"

"As horrible as one would assume when going to detention. It was almost as bad as torture, if not worse."

"What did he do?" she looked for some reason oddly excited.

"Mr. Blackthorn put on this really awful Fifties music or something and cranked it up as loud as possible. I think I will have a permanent headache."

"Ah, it couldn't have been that bad. You had Jace there the whole time..." she nudged Clary and glanced at her before returning her eyes to the road.

"No, not really. He didn't sit next to me." she lied. Clary found that the truth would give Izzy more of a reason to tease her about Jace, when there wasn't really anything going on. Like Jace had said, they didn't like each other in that way at all, or in anyway.

"Oh." she paused, trying to hide her disappointment. "But he walked with you here."

"Yeah, and made everything super awkward."

"Jace...Awkward. Is that even possible?"

"Around me it is." she muttered.

"Is that disappointment I hear?"

She glared at her and then sighed. "No. It's just he made me feel awkward too. And I hate feeling awkward."

"I don't think anyone actually enjoys feeling awkward.

"I know..It's just..." she sighed again. "I didn't expect him to be so...Intimidated? Am I intimidating to some people?"

"Well..." she drew out.

"Izzy! Am I intimidating or not?" Clary exclaimed.

"To some people, yeah...you are. They're afraid to talk to you."

"My smartness gets to them."

"Pretty much. And how beautiful and virtuous you are."

"Virtuous?"

"That's what I heard one guy describe it as."

"Okay...that's really weird."

"Yeah he was a creeper."

"Why were you talking to him, then?"

"Just because he was a creeper, doesn't mean he wasn't good looking."

Clary laughed. "Good ole Izzy."

But in Clary's mind she thought of conversations and talking and she deemed the one with Jace: Awkward.

**So Clary and Jace have to warm up with each other before they have an actual conversation. Which might take a while. The next few chapters will be more on what Clary's regular life is like before we get more Clace. Sorry. **

**So what do you like about this chapter, or the whole story? I'm getting around three people reviewing, but the first chapter had six...What happened to you all?**

**Until next Thursday,**

**-La**


	6. The Compatibility of Isabelle

**Arighty, here it is! Very filler and humorous, so sorry there isn't much plot until next chapter.**

**A, big thank you to all those who have done so already!**

**I really like reviews...A LOT. So it makes my day when I get a lot of them. Just mention something you thought was funny or humorous or something you could relate to...or anything I guess...**

**Shout out to my awesome beta, LifeIndeed. You are freaking awesome and I'm so glad you fixed it up for me!**

**-Lau**

**Chapter 6**

Clary raided Izzy's kitchen for almost an hour, enjoying vegging (something she hadn't done ina very, very long time) while watching some old reruns of Avatar the Last Airbender with her friend's younger brother, Max. It was nice to relax and forget about everything and snack on fattening potato chips...yes, life felt near to Heaven.

Isabelle clicked off the TV when the episode ended, which meant that TV time was over and that Gossiping Time had started. Not that Clary didn't mind talking about boys and crushes and news buzzing around school...but she didn't feel up to it that night. Especially after her break-up with Sebastian, she didn't feel any crushes coming to crush her anytime soon. Not on any males that were real, at least.

They ran up the steps, Izzy already talking extra fast about this new dress she got and that new boy interested in was always new for Izzy. Anything new was super exciting and had to be exhausted. It was actually nice, though. It kind of distracted Claryfrom reality, getting caught up in fashion terms and famous names that she'd never understand or heard about.

Like she said, it was nice.

They sat on one of the perches of Izzy's roof, only reachable through the window in her room. It was fun to be isolated outside, the sound of cars and sirens and Izzy's voice. She was currently rambling on about a guy she met at a club, and how Clary should come with her some time.

"I don't need to give you another excuse to go out and get drunk**,**" she scolded.

"But Clary...It's not just getting drunk. It's about meeting cute guys, making out for a couple minutes, and then completely forgetting about him when the next guy comes along."

Clary shook her head. "I don't understand how you can go make out with a guy you barely know."

"I don't understand how you can't**,**" Izzy retorted teasingly.

"It's just..." she positioned her back against the white siding and sat Indian style**. **"I can't make physical contact with someone unless I know them and like them considerably."

Izzy smirked. "Like a certain guy from detention?"

"Mr. Blackthorn? No, I don't think that would work out very well, would it?"

She shoved Clary, laughing. "Come on, you know who I'm talking about."

She sighed. "To be honest, I think of Jace the same way I have always thought of him. Maybe a bit more human, but still just as annoying and stupid and cocky. Nothing's changed, and I don't know why you'd think that anything has."

"Yeah...It's just for me, feelings for a guy happens so fast and ends just the same. Sooo...I guess that's why I expect you to like him."

"Why on earth would I like him?" she exclaimed incredulously.

Isabelle shrugged. "He seemed kind of interested in you."

Clary snorted. "Of all people, I don't think he's interested in me. Conversations either end up with me insulting him**,** or both of us feeling really uncomfortable. And plus...I've seen his type first-hand; it's not me."

"Oh, come on! The whole 'She's-not-my-type' crap doesn't really mean anything. Nobody is put in an individual category. And if there were any of those so-called-types, you are his type."

Clary laughed without mirth. "I'm pretty sure I'm not."

"Look at his girlfriend. Katie, I think? She looks really naïve and sweet, in my opinion. And well-respected too. Like you. Someone who takes things seriously."

"Yes, but look how interested he is in her**,**" **s**he countered, staring at a truck go down the street.

"True, he cheats on her, but look how long he's been with her." When Clary didn't say anything, she continued. "He's been in a relationship with her since the beginning of **s**ummer."

"Yes, so long**,**" **s**he replied sarcastically.

"Longer than his relationship with...others. It's what? One night stands."

"You know, he's not really 'my type' so I really don't care about him. And I don't really want to talk about him, either. So if we could please...change the subject."

Izzy stayed quiet for a few moments, looking at the street below. "Have you gotten any letters for college yet? They've all started flooding in this month. Well, they've been coming in since last year, but I'm getting tons more lately."

"Yeah, I'm getting a lot, too. Most colleges need you to apply sometime in the Fall."

"But not yours." Izzy smiled.

Clary grinned back. "No, not mine. I have to apply in December or January. That's the latest. And late applications aren't likely to get accepted as well as ones that are in early."

"So you'll be turning it in the earliest day you can."

"Probably the first day, in fact." She laughed. "I need everything I can to get in."

"Did you get a letter from New York University yet?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh." Izzy looked a little crestfallen.

"But if not getting a letter means not getting in, then I wouldn't get into Stele, because I haven't gotten anything from them yet."

She sighed. "I know. I guess I'm just a little paranoid."

"And that's fine." Clary put her hand on her friends arm. "You don't have to get into the same college as your brother, you know."

"And you don't have to get into Stele, either. But you want to...and I want to get into NYU."

"I guess I could get into any college I want, but I really need this one. College in New York means I might stay with my parents if I don't have enough money to pay for my own apartment, and I don't think I can handle to stay with them for another five months, let alone another five or six years."

"Easy...just get married super early to a rich guy."

"If only life was that simple." They both laughed, Clary shivering a little from the cold September air. Fall was coming soon, the chilliness that took away the heat of **s**ummer. Something that Clary had always dreaded.

"Is it really that bad at home, then?"

"Yeah. My parents can barely stand the sight of each other without screaming. And I can't talk to my dad unless it's seen as if I'm conspiring against my mom, and I can't talk to my mom unless it looks like I'm taking her side..." she sighed, "It's all just very...exhausting. It was actually really nice of you to offer the sleepover. I needed a break."

"Hey, no problem." She smiled. "You helped me when the whole thing was happening with my parents, so I might as well return the favor."

Clary sighed in content. "You're too good of a friend for me. I don't deserve you."

"Nonsense...but you kind of sounded like a guy out of a chick-flick there. Sorry to ruin the moment and all."

She laughed. "Speaking of chick-flicks, we should watch one right now!"

They both scrambled back into the window, giggling like little children when Izzy had a tough time fitting through the window due to her wide hips. Clary shoved her friend's legs inside; her friend was the image of ungracefulness. "OW, MY KNEE."

Clary poked her head through to see inside. "What happened?"

Isabelle hopped on one foot, holding her left leg for inspection. "I skinned it, I think. From the carpet."

They both began to guffaw and laugh again, Izzy's injury for some reason a very funny spectacle to the both of them. Whenever she went over to Izzy's, they both got slap-happy over nothing. And it got worse as the night wore on and they stayed up late.

Clary collapsed onto the floor after she slithered back into the room. "Okay, let's go downstairs and kick your brother off the TV."

They ran down the stairs and skidded to a halt in front of the TV. "Alright Maxxy, girl time now. Go read or something."

Max groaned. "Oh come on. I was on here first!"

Izzy put her hands on her hips menacingly. "I can always make you food tonight." She offered. Clary shuddered, the day Izzy tried to do anything in the kitchen was a horrible day indeed.

Max seemed to realize this as well. He nearly jumped off the leather coach and sprang up to his room. Izzy grinned triumphantly. "Well, what should we watch?"

"Pride and Prejudice?"

"Ugh, no. We watched that one last time. Pick a different one."

Clary sighed. "Fine, but I promise you that no one like Mr. Darcy will be in any other movie we watch."

"Fine**. **But if I OD on it, I blame you."

She smiled and sat on the coach, Izzy curling up next to her after putting in the CD. And then began 135 minutes of pure bliss**:** the gorgeous Mr. Darcy, fancy 1700s dresses, British accents, and riveting piano music. Clary watched this movie so much she could practically recite the whole thing, so her mind drifted to piano music, which made her think of Jace.

Had he really meant the whole thing about showing her his piano skills? Or was that just him teasing and making fun of her? He had always seemed like an open book to her, but now she had no idea what his intentions were. It was probably an empty promise. He'd probably forget about it over the weekend, while she stressed out about it the whole time. Even if he did ask her again, she would say no, anyways. Why should she care, or be interested in him at all? After all, he said they didn't even like each other.

But the question still lingered in her mind: why had he even told her about playing the piano? He gave an excuse that she could keep secrets-which was true-but why? She couldn't stop thinking about the conversation, of how awkward and odd Jace was at the time. He hadn't been like that earlier. It just _felt_ weird that he _acted_so weird. Gosh, she didn't make sense in her own head. How could she explain it to Izzy if she couldn't explain it to herself?

Clary shook her head; no more Jace- he was pesky and annoying and obnoxious and cocky and a lady's man. He didn't deserve to be thought of by her.

The movie ended, both of them sighing contentedly at Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy kissing at the end. If only all romances ended that happily. If only she could be living in a book, and not living in real life. It would be so much easier.

"We should probably eat something. I think we have some left over spaghetti." They both got up, making their way to the fridge. Izzy rummaged around before pulling out a container. "I wish I could learn how to play the piano." she sighed.

"What?" Clary snapped into attention, staring at Izzy.

"Yeah..." she replied slowly, looking a little alarmed, "Is there a problem?"

"Um, no...Nevermind." she rushed. Apparently the world was forcing her to think about him. "It's just...I might get lessons at Stele if I can fit it into my schedule." she lied.

"Do they have music there too, then?" she asked, interested, dishing out the spaghetti from the container onto two plates.

"Yeah. Anything that has to do with the Arts. I went on their website a while ago and they had so much stuff going on. Plays, Musicals, Art shows, Concerts...They have one at least every week. It's kind of crazy and amazing there. It has so much opportunity for whoever goes."

"Maybe I could visit one of your Art Shows sometime." Izzy smiled.

"When we're both in our dream schools and everything is perfect."

"Except being in love. I'm pretty sure you won't be." she teased.

Clary scoffed, "I don't need to be in love to be happy. I mean, look at me now." she added the last part with a cocky grin.

"Because you're so happy now." Izzy snorted. "You're not; you're upset and angry with both your parents."

"And having a boyfriend would somehow fix that? I wasn't any happier than I am now as to when I was dating Sebastian."

"No, because you weren't in love with him." she countered.

She sighed loudly and exaggerating. "So being in love is supposed to distract me?"

"Not necessarily. It kind of takes your mind off things that are usually important to you...kind of lessens the importance of other things and makes you more focused on him."

"So love is supposed to screw my whole life over?"

"No! What do you mean?"

"I fail at everything in life and don't care about anything else?"

"No-"

"Then what is it!?" she exclaimed.

"Ugh! I don't know!" she shouted back. She chuckled after a few seconds and then said, "Love is confusing and different. It doesn't really make sense. And you might feel distracted, but probably more like you didn't see everything as important as it once was."

"I don't like being confused." Clary grumbled. "It sounds like I'll just end up being an old maid and own fifty cats and die lonely."

"Oh, come on! Being in love isn't that bad!" Izzy got out the plate out when the microwave beeped and put the other in.

"And how would you know?" she leaned her chin onto her knuckle and gave her a knowing look.

"Well..." she blushed, focusing on getting another fork for Clary. "I think I thought I was in love...but then we...um...how do I put this? Well...I guess I...well, we...did the dirty?"

She nodded, pushing her along with the story. "And then things got weird and we both felt awkward being around each other for some reason...I think it was because it actually meant something for us...and then I found out later he started to cheat on me, and then things went downhill from there. It basically caused us to be really anxious around each other and nervous and jealous a lot more often. It wasn't the same anymore. We kind of ruined the relationship by doing it."

"So if I want to be in a long, good relationship...don't have sex with him?"

"I guess...I mean look at me now. I haven't been in a long-term relationship for a really long time. And if I am with a guy occasionally, it's usually one night stands."

"So if I don't want to end up like you, don't have sex." she teased.

"Yeah." she laughed. "Unless you want to be a complete failure in life."

She handed Clary the plate and she dug in as Izzy got her plate out and sat down. Clary twisted the pasta around her fork absentmindedly and took a bight. "Uhg! Bleh-" she spat it out, wiping her mouth. "What did you do! Ugh..uhh...pehh...gross! " she gagged, trying to scrape anything left on her tongue with her fingernails. "That's disgusting! WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT?"

"Ugh! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THIS TIME! I JUST PUT IT IN THE FREAKIN MICROWAVE." she slammed her fork down on the plate and pushed her chair back. Her lower lip stuck out as she glared at the spaghetti like it was her worst enemy.

She put her hand on Izzy's arm comfortingly. "It's alright, some are blessed by the Food gods and some are not. You have obviously not been chosen and consequently cursed."

"Ha ha." she mumbled.

"Come on." Clary got up, taking her and Isabelle's uneatable food with her and throwing it down the trash. She reheated the container. "I thought it was pretty funny. You've got to give me more credit than that." she grinned saucily at her best friend.

"Sorry." she replied, not sounding at all like she was apologizing. "Sometimes I can't handle your wit."

"What?" she feigned shock. "_'Can't handle'_ it? Gosh! I waste my sharp tongue on you."

"'Sharp tongue?'" she laughed, finally snapped out of her sulkiness. "I think you are wasting it by not having a boyfriend-all those poor souls not experiencing your," she smiled coyly, "sharp tongue." with that she licked her lips at her, which was so amusing to Clary that she began to snort.

She clutched her stomach, wheezing, trying to get the image of Izzy licking her lips out of her head. But it only brought more painful racks of laughter as she collapsed on the ground, trying to grab at the island before falling into heap. "Clary!" Izzy laughed, "What are you doing on the floor!"

"I can't...I can't...st-stop..hurts." Izzy bit her lip from laughing and pulled out her phone to take a picture of Clary on the floor, a very pained expression on her face. Right when she believed she had a grip on herself, Izzy showed her the picture. And then she began dying again, not even making noises this time. It was silent laughter, tears blurring her vision. Her face began to heat up uncomfortably and Izzy took another picture of her. "Sorry Clary...I've just got to send this to Alec. He needs some more amusement in his miserable life."

"Yeah...no problem." she wheezed and choked out. "I'm glad that my painful laughter can be used to against my advantage to cheer up others." she told her, wiping away a few stray tears.

The microwave beeped and Clary struggled to get up, clinging to the edge of the island as she clutched her aching stomach. Izzy started toward the microwave when Clary growled, "Don't. You'll curse it. I don't trust the Food gods."

Izzy backed away, still laughing to herself as she looked at her phone. "Look what Alec said back."

_WHAT DID YOU DO TO CLARY? Did you kill her?_

They both laughed and Izzy quickly responded

_No, I just gave her some food._

_So you might as well have killed her._

_Ha Ha. No, sadly my poisoning had no effect on her. She's still alive._

_Dang it...Well, there goes my day. I thought you actually got rid of her._

_No...we'll just have to come up with something else._

_*sigh* excuse me while I go to my secret laboratory and find another concoction. _

_Alright, tell me when you're done. I'll try something else tonight maybe ;D_

_Good...Night. I'll call tomorrow?_

_Sure. Goodnight._

Izzy put her phone away while Clary got out the spaghetti and dished out the rest of the contents to both her and Izzy's plate. Clary took a timid bite and smiled. "I'm still convinced that you've been cursed. This tastes absolutely fine."

Izzy smiled coyly at her. "Yeah, the poison definitely didn't work.

Clary fake sighed. "Yes, if only it had." She paused before continuing, "Do you and your brother discuss my demise all the time?"

"No...Only on the weekends."

Clary nearly spewed everything she had been currently chewing all over the table. She composed herself after a few seconds. "Do you think there's a possible way of getting a six-pack from laughing?"

"What?"

"I mean...You have to be working out your abdomen muscles while laughing for you to hurt like that so much afterwards. Do you think that someday...if you laugh enough in a lifetime...that you'll eventually get a six-pack?"

"Was that rhetorical or do you want me to actually answer?" she giggled.

Clary sighed and shrugged. "I just want hope that someday...maybe...I'll have a six-pack without having to work for it."

"A pointless dream."

Clary sighed again dramatically. "I know."

Clary snuggled up next to Izzy. It was probably around 3 AM, both of them exhausting every topic their minds could think of. Izzy was probably already out; once she hit the sheets, it was like she had died. She was in her usual borrowed PJs whenever Clary came over unexpectedly; a very big T-shirt from some volunteer thing Izzy had done for cheer-leading and the idiot guy had given her an XXL, commenting "your boobs are too big for anything else." and very large, black, polka-dotted pants that probably could hold two Clarys in each pant hole.

The night was fun, nevertheless and she felt like she deserved a night off before her life picked up like before; work tomorrow, dinner with parents, date night with Mr. Davies' homework...yes, everything would continue as it normally would.

**Please leave a review.  
**

**-Lau**


	7. The Compatibility of Simon

**So I finally updated! YAY. I'm happy, I hope you're happy, so please read and enjoy and be happy through Clary's mind and sarcastic thoughts. I also hope you find Patrick the Polar Bear as amusing as I do. Maybe it's just because I know what I have in store for the future...hehehehe *malicious laughter***

**Thanks to those great reviewers and followers and favoriters. You all are fantastic so keep it up. Although, because I'm picky, can I have just one more person review? Please? There are quite a few people who like the story, but without imput and thoughts, I have no idea whether you like it or not.**

****** Keep being amazing!**

******-Lau**

Clary ran out the door; Izzy wasn't even awake yet, despite the fact that it was almost noon. She had woken up just a little before, grabbing a piece of toast and promising her stomach that she would fill it up later when she had time to at home. Maryse offered to give Clary a ride, which she accepted gratefully, but also reluctantly.

She hated having to make conversations with the parents of her friends; it was always too awkward. And Clary-being the very awkward person she was-would sometimes curl in on herself in shotgun; which she really hated since she would rather be in the backseat. Sometimes Clary was very quiet, but most of the time she rambled like crazy. And Maryse would sit there and not say anything.

Today, it was quiet. And very uncomfortable. At times like these, Clary often wondered why she'd never been blessed by the Socializing Gods. Some people could talk so easily and comfortably...and then there was Clary...Without an ounce of social skills.

When Maryse pulled up in front of her apartment building, Clary thanked her graciously and nearly bolted to it with her stuff under her arm. Clary ran up the steps, eager to eat and take a shower before going to work. She twisted the keys hurriedly and opened the door only to scream and slam the door again. Closing her eyes, Clary tried to erase the disturbing image out of her head…No, it wasn't going away. She rubbed her forehead; maybe she had given them enough time to compose themselves.

Clary timidly cracked the door…and sighed. She reopened it fully. Her Dad was sitting up, trying to fix his hair while her Mom was blushing furiously and mussing over her wrinkled shirt. "Umm…" Clary wasn't sure what she was going to say at all. Her mind hadn't been able process anything but think "Ummm" at that point anyway.

"We thought you were going to go straight to work." Her mom flushed even redder and looked down at her clasped hands on her lap.

"Uh, no. I had to take a shower and eat something…though I don't think I have an appetite anymore." She then preceded to gag over her shoulder.

"We thought-"

"And that somehow excuses you to…ugh…on the couch? WHY? Why on the couch? Isn't your bed good enough? Just..ugh. Whatever. You know? Do whatever you want. It's your apartment."

She walked to the end of the hallway then, shaking her head.

Jocelyn caught up with her, touching Clary's shoulder. "Clary…I'm sorry-"

"Really?" Clary whirled around to face her. "Because…I know this sounds weird…but if you two are…umm…on those kinds of…terms…then I'm actually a little relieved. I thought you guys were getting close to…well, _very_ close to divorce."

"Oh…Honey, no. We wouldn't ever tear up our family." Jocelyn cradled Clary's cheek in her hand. "We love you too much to do that to you…despite whatever me and your father are angry about."

Clary sighed, smiling tiredly at her mother. "I'm going to get ready for work."

"Alright, honey. Make sure you're safe. Do you have a ride?"

"I'll be fine; Simon is giving me a ride." Jocelyn bent to kiss her cheek, which Clary shimmied away from. "Haha….Maybe later when I don't have a certain…memory hammered into my brain."

Her mom just laughed. "Okay. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay." She left to their only bathroom, turning the water extra hot. When she stepped in, relief filled her and seemed to lift off her shoulders. She[Clary] closed her eyes after she finished, letting herself feel one more relaxing moment before heading off to work, where chaos was sure to ensue.

She left to her room, changing into her work T-shirt; light blue with a large polar bear on it and the company name: Led's Ice Rink. For some reason the stupid people who made the ice rink decided it was best to have a mascot that little children ran and screamed from. In truth, sometimes Patrick the Polar Bear scared her. And she wasn't really sure who this "Led" was. In her two years of working there, not once had she met the supposed "Led."

Clary pulled on her one pair of skinny jeans and picked up her back pack. Maybe during her hour break she could work a little bit on her homework. Clary applied some mascara, mostly to make her look older; there had been several occasions where someone mistook her with a kid in their group and not an actual employee. That was always awkward.

Someone texted her then, Clary's phone vibrating in her back pocket, making her jump in surprise. She fished it out then, walking to the door. It was from Simon.

_I'm just pulling up._

Clary called a goodbye to her parents, bounding down the dirty steps to the front door of her apartment building. There by the curb was Simon's large, yellow van. She wasn't sure how old the beast was; around the wheels, the paint was peeling, revealing decades of built up rust and the engine always made this noise very similar to a gunshot whenever Simon hit the break. So most of the time, Clary was usually flinching and jumping at every stoplight.

"Hey, Simon." She grinned and got into the car.

"Hey girlie. How's life?" She'd become friends with Simon after she met him at work. She was disappointed to find out that he didn't go to her high school, but the one across town.

"As sucky as it usually is. Especially with me going to North Alicante High School."

"At least you don't go to East. It's all ghetto there."

She laughed. "How so?"

"Well, there are murals above the lockers, the halls constantly smell like something died, mixed with the scent of pot, and duct tape is a common use to fix things like rulers and cracks in chairs and desks."

"I don't know, it couldn't be that bad. I bet it's easy to find a pot dealer." Clary propped her feet up on the dashboard.

"Almost too easy. It isn't fun anymore," he complained, sighing.

"Was it fun before?" she teased.

"Touché," he replied, hitting the break. BANG! Clary jumped, her feet hitting the glass windshield.

"Gosh, are you still not used to that?" he laughed, pulling into the full parking lot of the ice rink.

"I will _never_ be used to that." They both laughed, hopping out of the car. Simon found an employee parking place very close to the building, so it meant less time outside. Wonderful. He knew how to make her day worth living.

The ice skating rink was a very large, plain, ugly gray building. There were two arenas, one for sports such as hockey and actual skating competitions, and another for recreational activities. Luckily, today she was just over the stand that lent out ice skates for those who didn't have any. Much easier than manning the concession stands or being over the side room where little kids usually had their birthday parties. Those days were never fun. Especially having to clean up afterwards; cake crumbs strewn about the floor, most likely puke from the kid who _ate_ the cake off the floor, and wrapping paper torn in little bits after a fight between a couple of the children. Not to mention the crazy protective mothers that watched their kids like a hawk. And Patrick the Polar Bear visiting the Birthday Kid…which usually ended in most of the children (spare a few brave ones) running and screaming their heads off and crying in the corner. That was Clary's job in a nutshell. But, she thought, it had to better than Patrick the Polar Bear…then again, he might enjoy making little kids scream and hide for their dear lives.

Her job had its perks, though. Two free passes to the rink whenever she wanted and 11 dollars an hour; which, considering the pay for normal High School part time students, was very, very good. She already had a large fund in her own personal bank account that she'd been saving for nearly two years for college.

Simon opened the door that read in big black letters, "Employee's Only." The break room was quite pathetic, with only one bathroom that was always really gross and unsanitary because the guys that worked there apparently couldn't aim well or something, and the corners usually held large, black jumping spiders. They might've been harmless, but they were still fat and ugly and could jump long distances. Going outside in a random bush was probably more sanitary than in there. Heck, that's what Simon always did.

There were a few long tables for lunch, and an almost empty vending machine in the back. It was ultra pathetic. Clary never really hung out in there, anyways. She and Simon almost always took a ride in his van to get dinner.

They both clocked in with their slob of a manager, Simon going off to the concession stand while she headed the opposite way, heading to right outside the rink. She plopped down on the old chair, pulling her feet and picking at her fingernails. It was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

The pulsing lights were giving Jace quite the headache. Not to mention the very, very, _very_ loud music. He had meant to go back home earlier, but after ensnaring one girl off into the closet, and then another, he kind of forgot all about that. He hadn't drunk much, mostly because he hated hangovers the next morning, but his mind was still a bit fuzzy.

The roiling mass of bodies, the bright lights flashing inconsistently around the crowd, and a few very attractive girls made him want to jump in, forget about his parent's curfew…only he couldn't forget about how his mother always gave Jace that saddened, disheartened look. And his father's disappointed expression. He didn't _like_ necessarily disobeying them, or being a bad son…sometimes it just kind of happened without him trying to. It was best to keep them thinking of him with low standards, because then…if he _ever did_ start trying…if he screwed up, then they'd be even more disappointed than before. So it was best to keep them thinking he was an unintelligent womanizer.

A girl and a couple of her friends sat next to him, ordering a drink. The leader of the pack-he assumed-swiveled in her chair, looking out over the crowd like he was. Her flaming red hair was up in a high ponytail; he could see the sweat along her neck where her hair was damp and sticking to her skin. She glanced at him shyly, blushing when she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes to the crowd again.

He tried not to smirk at her reaction to him; Jace knew he was attractive. Heck, everyone knew he was. Only she was cute, not a bit whorish. Which he particularly liked. So he turned, scooting his chair a little closer to hers, and leaned back against the bar ledge. Jace propped himself up with his elbows, letting his arms dangle between them. She blushed even more furiously, avoiding his eye and playing with her hands in her lap.

He racked his brain for any pick up line he could think of that would work. At that moment, he couldn't think of anything at all, so he used the oldest one in the book. "So…do you come here often?"

She let out a nervous laugh. "Did you really just say that?"

Jace shrugged. "Might as well try. I've never used that one before. I wanted to see how it would work out."

"Was that an attempt on hitting on me?" she looked at him now, raising an eyebrow at him.

He felt his blood almost churn from excitement in that small look. She was hot…really hot. And she hadn't just sat next to him for no reason. No one did. "Maybe." He half-smiled, tilting his head.

"Well…you should really try harder."

"Harder? How hard do I have to be?"

She opened her mouth, only to realize his innuendo, and blushed. "I refuse to respond to that question."

Jace threw back his head and laughed before smirking. "You can always see for yourself."

Her lips parted, eyes incredibly bright. "Can I take you up on that offer right now?"

"Anytime you want."

"Alright then."

The girl followed him to the back, shimmying their way past couples until he found a spot that he liked. The whole time, he couldn't figure out why she intrigued him so much. Maybe it was how she made small noises in the back of her throat whenever he did something she liked, or how great it was to feel her lips against his, or how soft her red hair felt when he ran his fingers through it. Either way, he couldn't help but feel like he knew her from somewhere…or who she reminded him of. So he quit thinking.

* * *

Clary was exhausted by the end of the day. A middle school group came through, all probably very inexperienced, because the girls came through barely an hour later saying that some of their feet were bleeding from using the borrowed skates. So she had to pull out the first aid kit, fishing out the disinfectant spray and gauze. After about half an hour of playing nurse, several of the girls were crying because "it hurt."

And then they all paid and went home, thankfully, while Clary was left clueless on how to get out the bloodstains from inside the skates. She'd have to take them home or something and try to hand scrub it out. The usual five o'clock screams erupted from the party room when Patrick the Polar Bear came in. He was quite terrifying, in his own way.

And so after the bloody skates incident, Clary was thankful for her dinner break with Simon as they went out to Subway. And then when they had to go back, Clary was incredibly bored out of her mind. One could only spin so much behind a desk before one tired of that too.

When the building began closing up, she met up with Simon. Neither of them had cleaning duty, so that meant getting home at 10:30 instead of 11:30. They clocked out, Simon dropping Clary off. She waved tiredly at him; they'd see each other again in the morning. They had the early morning shift at 9:00 AM, and that meant getting there at 8:00 and getting up at 7:00. So she needed as much sleep as possible. Especially if it was her turn to take care of the little kids in the party room. Clary shuddered; she really hoped it wasn't.

* * *

Jace opened the door, yawning dramatically as he lazily waltzed into the front room. Since it was just barely 3:00 AM, both of his parents were probably asleep, long tired of waiting up for him. He stumbled up the staircase, his legs suddenly feeling like they were being weighed down by 100 ponds. He sighed and gripped the banister, pulling himself up the last few steps until he came to his living area. While most people had one room, Jace had two. One was where he actually slept, and the other held most of his favorite things.

Along two of the walls were bookshelves, filled with all his favorite books, and taking up most of the space were couches, a large TV, and some workout benches in the corner. And in the other corner, Adelaide.

Well…she wasn't a real person. And she wasn't a she. Adelaide was actually his most prized possession-his piano. Just like when captains of ships usually called their ship "she," he called his piano "she." Adelaide was his vessel, and probably the only thing he loved, other than his parents.

Unlike most things, Adelaide was always there, never moving and never changing. She just sat there. Jace kept her well-polished, not a single fingerprint detectable, and her keys sanitized almost daily. Every string inside was perfectly in place and always in tune. He played out his frustrations into songs, or just random notes that seemed to sound good.

Or sometimes didn't sound good at all.

Sometimes he pounded away at the keys with his fists, making horrible sounds as notes clashed. And by that point his mother came running to talk to him. That made Jace feel better, of course, and slightly manlier not having to run crying to his Mommy about whatever he was bothered by.

He couldn't pinpoint a time when he'd begun to call his piano by name, it just started happening. Naming something made it more personal…more lifelike. To Jace, Adelaide was his best friend, and so she deserved a name. Jace didn't want anyone to know about her, for some reason, and so he still cursed himself when he told Clary. It just kind of happened without any thinking on his part. He had to think more on his part when that girl was around.

She was strange and different. Jace was sure that if they were friends, she'd be a cool person to be around, but with him…no. They could never be friends, even if he wanted to. Clary was too unpredictable for Jace. What he needed was more stability in his life, not more uncertainty.

And so it still baffled Jace why he wanted her over to watch him play. He couldn't push down that want for some reason. And it just wouldn't get out of his mind, no matter how many times Jace pushed it down; Clary would just constantly push herself up again. He'd be reminded of her through the girl at the club, with her red hair and blush and snide comments. Or it was by some other small thing, like a piece of artwork in his home, or his own room. He glared at the painting next to his door. She was somehow getting to him, in a way Jace didn't fully understand or like.

And so Jace ignored his piano and went to his bedroom, collapsing on his bed. Playing would just make him think of her.

**I really love the comparison of how Jace spends his day, and how Clary spends her day...It's quite different to the point of amusing. Don't worry...I think I'll make Jace pull his head out of his unbelievably hot butt soon...although don't count on it in the next five chapters...haha, I'm so evil. Wait till next chapter. Clary will get in trouble again because of Jace... :D**

**-Lau**


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